


Death Comes in Threes (final part)

by G E Monica (J1NXY0)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Original Work
Genre: Demons, F/M, Gen, Mages, Multi, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 44,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22822339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J1NXY0/pseuds/G%20E%20Monica
Summary: Born into low ranking nobility, Arkael is gifted with immense and mysterious power. His brilliance was always used by his father to climb the social ladder – when Arkael only ever desired to unlock the true potential of his power.In a time and place where magic is feared and loathed, Arkael is faced with dangers and enemies at almost every turn. Forced to bind a demon to his body and mind to survive may have been the worst, as well as the best decision of his life. Now officially a warlock, Arkael must begin his journey to regain the power that was taken from him.Pity the fool that gets in his way.





	Death Comes in Threes (final part)

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this is the final part of 'Death Comes in Threes' make sure you start with the earlier post for the first part of the book ;) (this one starts at Chapter 25 - ending at 42) ironically, the first book that features the misadventures of Arkael and Corbin. Get some tea, it is very long, and may I remind you the writing style will look different from 'Champion of Misfortune' (which this is technically a prequel to) as I wrote this a few years ago. Loosely based on Dragon Age, thank you for continuing.

Chapter 25 – Paranoia

Xirelia and Arkael spent the rest of the day wandering the wilderness in search of any signs of demons. Arkael thought if he could fix this then he would be more powerful than he had ever been.   
Casting spells was just as exhausting as sprinting or swinging a sword, a powerful mage needed a lot of stamina. Arkael once had an unlimited pool of power to draw his spells from, but that had been taken away from him by Zhander Dracken. He’d felt for the first time what it was like to be normal to be average, and he hadn’t liked the feeling. Having Xirelia with him had at least kept him sane, kept them both alive in such a harsh world.   
‘We’re just wasting time now,’ Arkael stopped walking and looked up at the pine trees overhead.  
‘Let’s think about this logically,’ Xirelia said, watching his handsome face closely.  
‘Can’t you just dip into the demon realm and start asking around?’ he asked with a wry smile.  
‘Well, yes, that is an option, if you want to risk me getting stuck down there for eternity.’  
Arkael stroked the beard on his chin thoughtfully. ‘What’s it like down there?’  
‘I don’t remember,’ she replied quickly. ‘I imagine it was a bit like what we saw in Lara’s mind… just nothingness. The opposite of reality. That frightens me.’  
‘You don’t remember where you came from?’  
‘Do you?’  
‘Good point. It’s just memories, and our earliest memories are when we realise we are an existing entity.’  
‘Exactly,’ she said more slowly. ‘The first thing I remember is him, and that had to be about twenty years ago. If I’m older than that, or if I was summoned before, I don’t remember it.’  
Arkael rubbed his cold hands together and set his thoughtful gaze on Xirelia. It was drizzling and as grey as it always in Claynore, but the trees kept the both of them dry. It was quiet here, eerily quiet. A dead forest. He didn’t care, he liked being alone with Xirelia.  
‘So someone is summoning all the demons out here? Serving with no clue who or what they are? Like lost children.’   
She nodded and moved closer to his side. She felt intimidated by him but it had nothing to do with him being scary; it was a blissful intimidation. Most men were predictable, but not Arkael. Being around him was exciting. She never exactly knew what he was thinking and he only ever had interesting things to say. Zhander had never spoken to her, he had always ordered her around and beaten her into submission instead. ‘I suppose so,’ Xirelia continued to nod.  
‘And they never truly die, they just get summoned again, night after night. Maybe fighting them isn’t the key at all. Perhaps I can turn them instead.’ He had an inspired look in his unusual eyes. ‘There must be a demonic tome, not too unlike the one that keeps you in this world.’  
‘And someone carrying it,’ Xirelia agreed.  
‘Was I not the only apprentice?’  
‘He killed all his former apprentices… after I drained their magic.’  
‘Someone went back to the destroyed mansion after Lara was cursed. The stone that she touched could not have just disappeared. Perhaps you weren’t the only demon there. It is possible that a demon could ride inside someone’s body and they wouldn’t even know,’ Arkael speculated further.  
‘Surely not Corbin?’ Xirelia spoke with uttermost horror.  
‘He’s been nothing but a curse to me. Except for when he stole those books, and even then I’m still sceptical of how he did that without any help. The demon just had him do that to gain my trust. Then why else would he just follow me around? The demon was looking for a way to avenge Zhander.’ ‘Or maybe Lara is still possessed? Corbin would have let you die to the ballista bolt if his mind truly wasn’t his own.’  
‘That’s true,’ he sighed. ‘It could be anyone. Corbin’s mother dabbled in blood magic, or there could still be a Stargazer on the loose, trying to bring back Krotan and Zula from the underworld.’  
‘That sounds more likely,’ Xirelia said eagerly. ‘Think of the big picture. The empire has many enemies for believing in forgotten gods. Menosian’s grew up believing that Krotan and Zula were the true gods or believing in nothing at all. And then the llichivar have their own gods, and so do the elves. No one can agree on anything. Add a gateway into hell into the mix and no one knows what to believe anymore!’  
‘Religions only ever cause conflict,’ Arkael muttered and turned back around. ‘Shall we head back to the camp before night falls?’

***

‘You haven’t slept in days, Kiezar,’ complained a female knight at the camp. She scraped her freshly washed, short dark hair back and stood still to let her young squire wrap her in black steel armour.  
‘Two days,’ replied her fellow knight, with a wild look in his earthy eyes.  
‘Exactly.’  
‘I don’t need sleep.’  
‘You’re impossible,’ she shook her head and strapped her galdarkas onto her belt again.   
‘Don’t look now, but here comes your betrothed,’ Kiezar teased, with a wild grin to match the eyes.  
The female knight didn’t have to be told, she’d already spotted Arkael approaching the camp. Her full cheeks instantly flared up. ‘You know that’s not true.’  
‘Right,’ he continued to tease, brushing a finger over his lips.   
‘Who is he with, anyway?’ she dropped her voice to a whisper.  
‘Xirelia, an exotic lady from Ayrev, I presume. I thought you didn’t care?’  
‘I don’t.’ Samantha Eldridge turned on her heel and joined the rest of the knights suiting up for battle.  
‘Did you find anything?’ Kiezar called, waving over to Arkael and Xirelia.  
‘No,’ Arkael replied coldly. ‘If you could capture a demon alive for me, that would be helpful.’  
‘I could try,’ he didn’t sound very hopeful. ‘It gets pretty hectic.’  
‘I have a lot of studying to do,’ Arkael said bluntly and walked towards the refreshment tent.  
Bryn Kiezar enjoyed watching Xirelia walk away. He soon joined the rest of his Gardozian knights, continuing his role as group leader. He faced the silent forest and dropped to one knee, clasping his hands together. ‘Gardoz, bless us with a beautiful battle and an honourable death.’  
His fellow four knights joined him in brief prayer before their hunt for demons began again. They walked in a calm formation, awaiting the sudden manifestation of restless evil spirits.  
Horned, fiery skinned shapes ran out from the darkened forest, with little organisation or skills, just pure hatred in their red eyes.   
The Gardozian Knights made clean work on the battlefield, drawing their blades only when necessary, holding a firm, relaxed stance against the waves of demons.   
The knights all shared a love of fighting, but none so much as Bryn Kiezar. He was a menace with a sword, making each of his attacks count; precise and with maximum damage. He, like his brethren were taught to emphasise a powerful first strike. Every step of Bryn’s feet and every turn of his body were calculated in such a way as to deceive the enemy of his next attack. His shining main sword moved in fluid motions, cutting down multiple demons before returning to it its ivory home to begin another fluid flourish. He only sometimes had to use his smaller blade, and even that seemed to not take any conscious thought. He made the secret sword technique look easy.  
But even the warriors of Gardoz ran out of stamina eventually. After hours of fighting through the night, the five zealots began to tire.   
The demons however did not. They came in all shapes and sizes, twisted and evil. Some with patches of fur, hooves and horns, some with no flesh at all – as if creation had failed them all together. Wave after wave, the knights sent them back to the underworld with their glimmering galdarkas. Even in the dark of night, the trademark weapons’ metal shone bright.  
‘Fall back!’ Bryn ordered after cutting the legs clean off an eight foot tall monster with burnt looking flesh.  
His brethren made a tactical retreat, continuing to ensure that not a single demon made it past their blades.   
The demons appeared to be afraid of the large campfire, which was protected by the five squires, yet their attacks didn’t relent.  
‘You’re bleeding, Kiezar,’ panted Samantha.   
Her leader’s black hair was caked in blood and it trickled down his pale face. ‘It’s only a scratch.’  
‘Having a bit of trouble?’ inquired a cool voice. The owner of the voice stepped out from behind a thick tree without even a rustle of his coat. ‘Aryn requested reinforcements.’  
‘So they sent you, Mr Aldus?’ Bryn grinned manically.  
‘Naturally.’  
‘Is Lady Reinwood with you?’  
Johan Aldus curled his lips into a smirk. ‘She’s made a new habit of avoiding you, Sir Kiezar.’  
‘That’s wise of her,’ bantered the Gardozian knight.  
The follower of Alois, and skilled warrior drew the red sword on his side and charged into battle. Johan Aldus could not die and did not need rest. A one man army, he cut a path through the demons. Johan moved with inhuman speed and cut with superhuman strength. He lived in the dark and his eyes picked up everything.  
Johan had no idea what he was, or why he had to survive on blood. He still didn’t understand why his whole family had died and he had lived. He didn’t even know if gods watched over men. Johan Aldus only knew two key things; he knew evil when he saw it and that he would love Celia Reinwood forever.

Chapter 26 – Deaths’ Gate

‘Up already, my lady?’ Bryn Kiezar returned to the refreshment tent at dawn. At dawn, the demon attacks had ceased.   
Arkael had only slept a little bit on the carriage journey to Largo Town, and he had only just fallen asleep in a pile of blankets in the corner of the large tent now. Xirelia kept guard, pacing the tent silently.  
She put a finger to her lips and pointed to her sleeping companion.  
The large, bloodied knight nodded. ‘We do have proper beds, if you wish –’ he began to whisper.  
‘Kiezar!’ a woman called urgently. ‘Where’ve you gone? I haven’t patched you up yet,’ she burst into the tent and instantly cringed when she spotted Xirelia and Arkael. ‘I’m sorry.’  
‘No, that’s fine,’ Arkael grumbled sarcastically from the floor. ‘Fifteen minutes was far too much sleep for me anyway.’  
‘I’m sorry,’ Samantha Eldridge apologised again, looking down at her metal boots. She appeared completely unscathed in comparison to the other Gardozian knight.  
‘Like I was saying,’ Bryn couldn’t hide his grin. ‘We have proper sleeping tents if you should like a longer rest.’  
‘Which is exactly what you need, Kiezar,’ Samantha looked back up, frowning at the gash beneath his hair.  
Arkael was on his feet and tying his black hair back. ‘No, it’s fine. I’m awake now. Did you catch me that demon?’  
‘Johan has one,’ replied the leading knight.  
‘The Red Viscount?’ he speculated, wearing a mocking smirk.  
‘Aye, whatever you want to call him, the vampire showed up.’  
‘Where are they?’  
‘Away from the tents, there’s a patch of holly bushes.’  
‘And none of you are possessed?’ Arkael stepped up to the pair of knights, checking their earthy eyes for clarity. ‘Or does your god protect you from that?’  
‘Nah, these markings do,’ Bryn removed his gauntlet and showed the warlock the black swirling tattoo that travelled up his arm. ‘Sam’s got ‘em too, we all have.’  
‘Sam?’  
‘Eldridge,’ the older knight rolled his eyes and hooked his thumb towards the woman next to him. ‘She still insists on calling me Kiezar.’  
The only female of the five knights withdrew into herself. She was a goddess with a blade, but at court she was a disaster. Arkael remembered her then, and her cringing made perfect sense now.  
‘I’ve always wondered if you threw your drink on me on purpose,’ he said directly. He was genuinely curious, but he must have come across as spiteful due to the mortified expression on Samantha’s face.  
‘No, I –’ she spluttered awkwardly. ‘I would never!’  
‘Oh my, she’s adorable,’ Xirelia observed from the back of Arkael’s mind.  
‘Not now…’ he had to hide his sardonic smile.  
‘Come on Sam, I’ll submit to your coddling for a few minutes,’ Bryn took her arm and rescued her from drowning in the river of social inadequacy.  
‘What fascinating markings,’ Arkael mused before stepping out of the tent.  
‘Someone from your past, darling?’ Xirelia asked, feigning innocence.   
‘One of many suitors thrown at me by my father.’  
‘And you didn’t marry her?!’ she cried with disbelief as she followed Arkael away from the tents and towards the dark holly bushes. ‘A holy knight? She would have never got boring.’  
‘I had no time for my father’s foolish games.’  
‘That may be so, but Samantha really likes you. I can smell it on her.’  
‘Do you just go around smelling people?’  
‘Pretty much,’ Xirelia smiled alluringly.   
Arkael rounded the prickly bush, shaking his head slowly until he met eye to eye with Johan Aldus.   
‘Arkael… fancy meeting you again,’ said the vampire coolly. He straightened out his red leather coat and stared back down at the restrained demon at his feet.   
Arkael had never seen a creature so ugly. Its skin was the colour of red dirt, its face wrinkled and squished with uneven horns popping from its forehead. Its eyes were pure black and its sharp teeth stuck out from its lips. If it had to have a gender, Arkael would say it was male.   
‘Who brought you here?’ he asked impatiently.  
The demon growled ferociously, spitting saliva as he spoke in a demonic tongue. He sounded like he was choking and coughing to Arkael’s and Johan’s ears.  
Xirelia however glared down at the evil demon, looking as if she would spit on him.   
‘What did he say?’ Arkael looked to his companion.  
‘Called me filthy for joining myself to a human.’  
‘He’s just jealous that he is below you, powerless and weak. Can you get anything out of him?’  
Xirelia shifted onto her left hip and spoke the demonic language, but sounded much more refined and fluid.   
He rasped and spat back at her.  
‘That didn’t work,’ Xirelia glared more so.  
‘What did he say this time?’  
‘You don’t want to know.’  
‘There’s no point in torturing a demon, is there?’ Arkael raised an eyebrow.  
‘No. He’d probably enjoy it.’  
‘Can my blood serve you in another ritual?’ Johan offered, sounding mildly intrigued.   
‘I’ll see how well I can do without it,’ he replied tenaciously. He spread his palm out and aimed it at the tied up demon.   
Xirelia focused with him, taking a hold of her companions’ other hand. Arkael had never read minds before, but he had always been good at reading most people. Going into Lara’s mind was the single strangest thing Arkael had ever done, and now he was going to try the same thing on a demon.   
The hideous creature spat and squirmed, but ultimately he was no match for the warlock. The demon screeched as pure white light blinded him and burnt his mind.  
The trees and bushes vanished around Arkael and were replaced by fire – the demon’s birth place. He saw a fragmented timeline; many demons moving around in the fire, racing towards a triangular purple gate. A man shouting an incantation calling them into the plane of the living.  
Arkael felt Xirelia’s fingers tighten around his hand as she too witnessed the mass summoning. The same had been for her but she could barely remember it, she didn’t want to remember it. She did however remember hearing Arkael’s voice from the depths of Zhander’s mind months ago, and she had clung on and fought to reach her new master. Being released from Zhander was her very own paradise.   
Arkael clung on in the same way to the vision, determined to see who the man on the other side of the summoning portal was. Zhander’s secret apprentice? Krotan, the strongest wizard who had ever lived?  
All Arkael could see was a hooded figure through the wobbling haze of the purple portal and hear a woman screaming for mercy. Was she the sacrifice?  
‘Arkael, we need to leave,’ Xirelia worried, pulling on his hand.  
‘I need to see more.’ As he spoke, the inferno around them froze over and so did all the demons running towards the portal.   
Xirelia looked terrified. ‘We’ll get stuck here.’  
The cold overwhelmed the heat and what was once a fiery pit was now an icy cove. Arkael’s presence changed the very fabric of the vision, he demanded control over it. He reached out for the triangular portal.  
‘Don’t go into that,’ Xirelia pleaded.  
He didn’t intend to. His eyes glowed white light as he inspected the three stones around the gateway; purple and cosmic looking, like crystal paperweights. The very thing that had cursed Lara.  
‘Leave!’ Xirelia’s voice shouted, sounding distant and far away.  
Arkael was enjoying his world of ultimate power, where he had no boundaries of reality to contain him. Xirelia was right though, he would get trapped inside a demons’ mind. As soon as he reminded himself of the fact that he was inside a vision, the connection broke.   
Johan had a hand on Arkael’s shoulder, keeping him up right. ‘Your eyes glowed again,’ he said, clearly fascinated.   
‘Did they?’ Arkael was pleased. He was beginning to gain a better understanding of his rare power.  
Xirelia clung onto him, quivering slightly. She was looking down at the demon and the two men soon did the same.   
The red skinned demon no longer spat or shouted crude insults. His head hung limply, drool running down his misshapen chin. Occasionally he twitched violently.   
‘You broke his mind,’ she said with disbelief.   
‘I hope that means no one can summon him again,’ the vampire patted Arkael’s shoulder and took a few paces back. ‘Fancy doing that to a few more demons? I mean, as fun as it is to stay up here every night cutting them into bits, I would like to go back to Vane at some point…’  
‘I have a lot to think about,’ Arkael uttered. ‘Now I’m sure there’s three stones, which contain the most powerful demons of all. No offence, Xirelia.’  
‘None taken. I’m not a complete animal – I don’t eat souls.’  
‘I thought I heard Lara in the vision. Maybe there’s a piece of her still in the stone and that’s what is fuelling the summoning gate.’  
‘We should warn Lara’s family,’ Xirelia said instantly.  
‘We should find these stones,’ said Johan stoically. 

Chapter 27 – Court Rules

One night in the damp, demon infested forest was enough for Arkael. If the three cosmic looking stones really were summoning the army of demons, the chance of them being in the desolate forest was unlikely. They had to be somewhere safe and with an easy access to human sacrifices.   
It was a straight forward path through the eerie forest back to Largo Town. The Vail Wall still loomed over Arkael and Xirelia, as well as the pine trees surrounding them. Leafs rustled behind them, which was odd for a forest so dead and possessed by demons. Arkael imagined the first wave of demons riding in the bodies of deer, bunnies and squirrels and almost chuckled.   
Xirelia let out a worried cry instead.   
A rush of red fur bounded towards her, Vega panting heavily.  
Xirelia let out of a sigh of relief. ‘You scared me, Vega!’  
The pet wolf nuzzled her hand, seemingly searching for food. Corbin’s friends were Vega’s friends too.  
‘Oh no…’ Arkael moaned. His fears were instantly realised as the young half-elf dropped down from the nearest pine tree. ‘I thought I was finally rid of you… why are you following us?’  
‘We came to warn you,’ Corbin said urgently. He looked serious for a change. Vega bounded towards his side, sitting down like a well behaved dog. ‘Shannah sent a spy after you.’  
‘A spy? Are you sure?’  
‘The assassin sort of spy,’ his keen eyes caught sight of the black dagger on Arkael’s belt. ‘Wait, what? She had that same dagger!’  
‘Shannah has this dagger?’  
‘No, the assassin lady!’  
‘You’ve lost me,’ Arkael massaged his temples. The pestering fool was already giving him a headache. ‘Arkarien gave me this dagger.’  
‘Ah, yes,’ Corbin’s grey eyes lit up with sudden eagerness. ‘Arkarien went to find Shannah. He didn’t take too kindly to the spy in his home.’  
‘How in the world did you find me?’ his eyes also lit up, but there was warning in it. He stepped up to Corbin, looking as if he would set him on fire. ‘How do you always keep finding me?’  
‘Vega helped,’ Corbin shrugged. ‘I heard about the demon attacks and I figured you’d be here.’  
‘You’re telling me that you travelled half way across Yaima to find Lara a cure and now you’ve willingly left her side? To warn me?’  
‘You sound a little mad.’  
‘I don’t need you watching my back! I was fine until you showed up. I’m so glad that I experienced a ballista bolt through me.’   
‘I sense that you’re focusing on the bad here,’ Corbin said, looking half amused and half worried. ‘I got you those books though, you got stronger.’  
‘I still can’t fathom how no one caught you. What’s your gift? Dare I say it, are you a mage who’s too simple to unlock his full potential? Is it truly just in your blood?’ his voice grew louder and he spread his fingers apart.   
Corbin was getting ready to dodge a fireball, and Vega stepped back cautiously. Instead he only felt a rush of wind pass through him.  
‘You’re not even possessed by a demon,’ Arkael sounded disappointed, resting his hands by his sides again.  
‘Look, what can I say?’ Corbin sounded just as defeated. ‘My mother is almost two hundred years old, she taught me everything she knows. I grew up fast, I had to. You think I’ve had it so perfect? My earliest memories are of a woman begging for her life as my mother cut her. She just kept on cutting her. That woman was Selma Curlain. Selma poisoned your uncle, and that’s why my mother had to give her a slow death. So maybe I’m just groping for answers, or battling whatever madness I’ve inherited from my mother, but whether you like it or not, there’s a bond between us Arkael. Hölzers are meant to know everything. I don’t know why good men like your uncle get backstabbed and cruel men like your father get to live. Maybe brutality is the only way to survive in this world.’  
‘Monologue over?’ Arkael said tartly.  
‘Just about,’ Corbin panted.  
‘I had no idea,’ he went on airily. ‘You grew up around blood rituals… perhaps that’s what makes you different.’   
‘My mother did the unthinkable,’ Corbin stared down at the dirt covered ground. He’d never spoken about his earlier memories to anyone before, but he had to convince Arkael; he had to make him see what drove him. Why he was the way he was. ‘She is a trick of all trades – a leader, a thief, an assassin, a spy, a fighter. Do you know that she stole from Zula? Gods, Zula! One of the most powerful wizards to ever live. I wasn’t around yet, but apparently she found Zula in her bed, slit her throat and took the jewel around her neck. How do I compete with that?’  
‘The relic that controlled Aryn?’ Arkael speculated with interest.  
‘Yeah, called it the Moon Stone, or something. My mother passed it onto Marik, your uncle and he proceeded to rip this island in half. That’s why there’s Menos and Claynore now. Your uncle did that.’  
‘It was always said that the Warden of Concento did that.’  
‘No,’ Corbin was shaking his head pitifully. ‘History keepers always got it wrong. Marik Hölzer called upon Alois to defend his loved ones and Krotan and Zula were subdued by the very relic that had made them. That’s when Aryn rushed in to get his revenge. The skies over Claynore never saw sunlight again and Marik was poisoned by his fiancé. That’s why the Moon Stone needed to be hidden, in case another power crazed wizard decided it would be fun to sink another island. Don’t ask how I remember all this.’   
‘My uncle? The high priest of Alois?’   
‘Well, of course… Celia, the new high priestess didn’t want anyone to even remember the all powerful relic. Of course she would cover it all up, wanting no one to know that Marik was the last person to wield it.’  
‘And now you’ve told me,’ Arkael mused.  
‘I trust you, Arkael.’  
‘Do you know where it is? This relic?’  
‘No,’ Corbin chuckled weakly. ‘That would be like painting a target on my forehead. This thing starts wars, you or anyone else doesn’t want to find that.’  
‘Why is Shannah spying on you?’ Xirelia questioned delicately.   
‘She wanted to see me again. That’s what that chattering noblewoman was drivelling on about at court the other day.’  
‘I think she wants to take your power,’ Corbin said with concern.   
‘Let’s go pay her a visit then. How are you at court, Corbin?’ Arkael was smiling wryly. He could tell that Corbin was telling the truth, it wasn’t like him to lie. Arkael couldn’t remember a time when anyone had come looking for him to help him, except for Xirelia of course, but she had her own gains from being freed from Zhander. What was Corbin’s deal? What did he want in return? 

***

Lady Shannah Eshra had made two fatal mistakes. The first was that she thought she could play Arkarien at his own game. The second would have to be coming to the eastern islands in the first place.  
Shannah sipped nervously on her glass of red wine, pretending to listen to Lady Evergreen’s prattling. The woman had a gift for talking insistently.   
‘You were lucky you got out of Ayrev when you did, darling. It’s turning into a political mess over there,’ Mrs Evergreen was going on. ‘I am glad of you to bring that little servant girl with you though. She makes the most delicious tea.’  
‘Vieya is a good girl,’ Shannah muttered half heartedly. She had neglected to mention that Vieya was actually a slave, not a servant. Rules were different inside the empire. In truth she had spotted a man with black hair and thought he might be Arkael.  
She watched the handsome man walk straight up the length of the long great hall and into the Emperor’s inner circle. She doubted that he was Arkael. She seemed to see him everywhere though, as if he’d placed a spell over her. He had left so abruptly; from seeing him every hour of the day for a week, Shannah had thought she’d made a friend. Someone who understood her craving for power. Then without even so much as a farewell, Arkael had left the country altogether.  
Shannah cast her eyes to the centre of the hall, where the Emperor’s sister danced elegantly. Her name was Quinn Avery and her brother still hadn’t chosen a suitor for her. Navok Avery hadn’t even made a wife for himself either. He was still young in the terms of a leader, they were both so young. The two royal siblings always caused a stir when they made an appearance at court, as neither one of them could seem to find a fitting match.   
‘Good evening Lady Evergreen, Lady Eshra,’ the handsome, black haired gentlemen had appeared in front of them, bowing neatly. When he looked back up at them, Shannah noticed that his eyes were the colour of amber.  
He was young looking like Arkael, but also well travelled. He wore his black hair tied back, his beard short and a deep brown suit adorned his sleek body.  
‘Apologies, I cannot recall if we have met before. I’m new to Claynore,’ Shannah admitted politely.  
‘I rarely get out much,’ he hit her with a dazzling smile. ‘Mr Fossil, at your service.’  
Shannah couldn’t understand why the gentleman had been hobnobbing with royalty, only to come over to her. ‘What do you do, Mr Fossil?’  
‘Not much. Design carriages when it takes my fancy. Navok was saying that you lost your family recently, and all of the Eshra horses that went along with it.’  
‘N-Navok?’ Shannah spluttered. Mrs Evergreen’s jaw dropped, in fact it had been dropping ever since the handsome gentleman had approached them. ‘You mean Emperor Navok?’  
‘Oh yes, silly me,’ he laughed dashingly. ‘You forget these things when you’re half-cousins,’ he dropped his voice to an enthralling whisper. ‘Everything you heard about Emperor Cassin – completely true.’  
‘Was he your father?’ Shannah asked, almost intimidated by the man’s royal blood.  
‘Grandfather. Which I suppose would actually make Navok my second-half-cousin, but that’s just a bit of a mouthful now, isn’t it?’  
Shannah made a noise like she was drowning under water. Mrs Evergreen looked like she might faint.  
‘So, Lady Eshra, are your horses strictly racing horses, or do they pull carriages as well?’  
‘They are no longer my horses, and it was only my husband who passed away. I’m sadly widowed.’  
‘That isn’t so sad for the bachelors at court,’ Mr Fossil jested charmingly.  
She laughed, disarmed and flattered all in one. ‘I think I’m getting on a bit now, too old to get my hopes up.’  
‘I wouldn’t give up just yet,’ he winked and pulled out a little card from his jacket pocket. ‘Well, if you ever need a hand securing those fine Eshra horses back you can find me at this address.’   
Shannah took the address card and watched the black haired nobleman swagger back into the crowds, charming anyone of importance.  
‘What just happened?’ Shannah muttered breathlessly.  
‘The man of your dreams just offered you to meet him alone. How scandalous!’ Emily Evergreen squealed. She couldn’t help but spread gossip and rumours, but for a few minutes even Mr Fossil had got the chatter box to finally shut up. 

***

Shannah Eshra stepped out of the carriage, after enduring a slow journey with Emily talking non-stop. Even when the woman was full of food and wine, she still didn’t give it a rest. Shannah could now see why Emily’s husband never went with her to parties. He needed a rest from it all.  
‘Goodnight, Emily,’ she bid tiredly before ascending the stairs of the Evergreen’s manor house. They were on the northern outskirts of Aze and Shannah practically had the top floor all to herself.  
‘Tired, are you? Don’t fancy a coffee?’   
‘No thank you, Emily.’ Shannah ran her fingers over Mr Fossil’s address card, looking forward to the prospect of seeing him again soon. She knew that she wouldn’t sleep that night, she had far too much on her mind. Why hasn’t that ugly little assassin girl returned yet?   
Being in the top room of the manor, Shannah had a very high, pointed ceiling and large windows. Moon and starlight lit up her room and she immediately knew that something was wrong when she went to her travelling trunk. She’d made a draft of camomile, lavender and valerian to help her sleep but it was not longer where she had left it. Shannah frowned and rushed over to her wardrobe. All of her gowns and stockings and shoes were gone too. She began to panic then.  
‘Looking for this?’ questioned an unfamiliar voice. A man sat on the edge of the large window ledge, swinging a sliver necklace like a pendulum. Shannah’s necklace. His face was hidden in the darkness, but it didn’t matter anyway. It was not a face that Shannah would recognise.  
She clutched at her bare neck, she hadn’t even noticed that it had gone missing as well. How long had it been missing?   
‘You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone, isn’t that what they say?’ he spoke again, pocketing the silver medallion necklace. ‘These are hard to come by, I think I’ll keep it. I was hoping you’d turn into a werewolf or something exciting when I took it off, Shannah. Full moon, after all. Although, werewolves can always be so messy.’  
‘I – what – I don’t understand! Who are you?’   
‘I know what you’re thinking. Surely he didn’t get inside my safe. I don’t know why you people bother with them, really.’  
Shannah really was panicking now. How did he get in? Has he come here to kill me?  
‘Why wouldn’t you burn these naughty letters?’ Arkarien said, brandishing papers in his hands as if he’d conjured them from the air. ‘Poisoned your husband did you? Very naughty.’  
‘Please, don’t tell anyone,’ Shannah begged. Her legs failed her and she ended up sitting down on top of her travelling trunk. ‘I’ll do anything.’  
‘There’s only one thing you can do for me. LEAVE Arkael ALONE. Got that? And don’t even think about sending another spy into my home.’   
‘I don’t even know who you are!’ she shrieked.  
‘For names sake, you can continue calling me Fossil.’ Arkarien’s humiliation was over and he was gone in the blink of an eye, as if he had only ever been an apparition.   
Shannah was left with an empty room, no curse-proof necklace and sheer embarrassment. The rogue had practically charmed her skirt off and then robbed her for everything she had.

Chapter 28 – Roshan

Arkarien had his own night time visitor. On the other hand, his visitor was a lot more welcome. He removed his dark cowl and face mask when he spotted a white haired woman at the top of his crystalline landing.   
Celia Reinwood had hair the colour of snow, but her face showed no signs of age. Her ears weren’t pointy either. A blessing or a curse, either way, Celia had stumbled upon a cure for death.  
‘You have something,’ Arkarien spoke eagerly, charging up the set of stairs.  
Celia smiled, warm and humble. ‘I think I have found a fix for Lara, yes. It may take a few months however, and rigorous training in the Glade Spire. But I am told that her sight will return and it will be perfect.’  
‘Lara has to stay on Vane? Become a priestess?’  
‘I’m afraid so,’ the high priestess of Alois knitted her fingers together, compassion in her voice. ‘She doesn’t have to go alone.’  
‘I have business here…’ he said with a slightly lost expression.  
‘Isn’t one of your son’s intellectual? Elijah could be Lara’s eyes, help her to study. He wouldn’t necessarily have to become a priest.’  
Arkarien nodded slowly. ‘What can I do for you? Make a donation to the Spire?’  
Celia looked slightly amused. ‘We’re not a temple of Mear. No, Arkarien, just keep doing what you’re doing. Information is much more valuable than gold.’  
‘When will my children be leaving?’ the question brought him no pleasure.  
‘Tomorrow night, if you please. As soon as the sun sets.’  
He nodded again. ‘I was hoping for a blissful marriage….’ 

***

Elijah and Lara were packed and ready within the day. Elijah’s bag consisted of lots of pens, pencils and notepads. Lara was convinced that she only needed to take her shield with her, but her mother insisted on packing clothes and sweet snacks as well.  
‘Goodness, you’d think I was going away forever,’ Lara complained boisterously as her mother combed her wavy hair and shoved the shell comb into her daughter’s bag as well.  
‘You might as well be! Write to me often. If you hate it there, I’ll come get you.’  
‘What’s to hate about it? I’ll finally get to see again and Celia is lovely.’  
‘Thank you,’ bowed the high priestess.  
‘Oh, you’re here already?’ Lara chuckled.   
‘The carriage is ready.’  
‘I’m not,’ Megan sighed, hugging her children together. Elijah and Lara almost knocked heads as their mother held them tight in her strong arms.  
When Lara was finally let go of, her father passed a thin necklace into her hand. ‘It will stop you getting cursed again,’ Arkarien uttered.  
Lara ran her thumb over the silver medallion, etched with strange symbols. It was unassuming for its power. ‘I take it that you didn’t buy this?’  
‘It was freely exchanged.’  
She smirked with her father and moved her hair aside. ‘Can you put it on for me?’  
‘Do I get anything?’ Elijah said teasingly.  
‘Not until you go blind as well,’ Arkarien chided, patting his son’s shoulder fondly.   
There was an awkward exchange between Erik and Elijah, the two brothers nodding a farewell to each other. Erik hugged Lara fiercely however; he loved his sister almost as much as their parents did.  
‘Don’t get too smart, okay? I can’t be the only thick one,’ Erik joked. He wasn’t thick at all. Erik was a shark at card games, he could multiply faster than any of the employees at the jewellery shop and he always knew how to make a good deal for the business.  
‘Don’t get too ugly in my absence,’ Lara jested in return.  
Arkarien and Megan helped their children with their belongings and watched the navy coloured carriage leave from the top of their front garden. They had hope in their hearts as they waved Lara, Elijah and Celia off. Hope was all they could have.  
‘I told you we should have had more kids,’ Megan turned to her ridged looking husband.   
Arkarien rolled his eyes and finally cracked a smile.   
‘I’m glad for this,’ she took his hand. ‘It’s funny that we never knew our parents at all, but I’m glad we’ve given our children what we never had. I never knew letting them go would be so hard though…’  
‘Damn it. You know what you do to me when you go all sentimental.’ He took his wife in his arms and kissed her until she giggled sweetly.

***

The carriage ride took two nights and the small ship ride to Vane took another night. Elijah and Lara had never been so far away from home before, and she was sad that her eyes couldn’t take in the sights of the journey.   
She wasn’t missing much. Vane was a small rocky island with one colour pallet – grey.   
The Glade Spire was built of grey-blue rock, a sturdy tower of grand height.   
‘Have you meditated before, Lara?’ Celia asked in her soft voice as the three of them entered the old tower.  
‘Hmm, no.’  
‘Now would be a good time to start practicing,’ she smiled kindly.   
‘I’m glad to see that you have returned safely, ma’am,’ greeted a man formally. ‘Johan has left a message.’  
‘What would that be?’ Celia freed her bright white hair from her navy hooded robe and set her dark eyes on her fellow Alois follower.  
‘Johan’s looking for demonic stones.’  
‘Not the news I was hoping for.’  
‘Apologies, ma’am. Is this her? The blind girl?’  
‘Hey! Watch your tone, buddy!’ Elijah snapped. He could see what Lara could not, which was a dark haired, tall man, dressed in the navy robes of the Alois order. The man wore an expression full of contempt.  
‘And who are you? Viscar’s Chosen?’ teased the young priest.  
‘It’s okay,’ Lara reassured loudly. She could sense her brother heating up and waved a hand awkwardly in his direction. ‘Yes, I’m blind. Blind as a bat.’  
‘Bats are not actually blind.’  
‘Then a mole.’  
‘Moles aren’t either,’ the snooty priest sighed with disgust. ‘This is my replacement?’   
Celia continued to smile humbly. ‘Did you find any more cherries, Roshan?’  
‘Yes… yes, ma’am,’ he rubbed his left eye with the sleeve of his robe and swallowed back his disgust. ‘I’ll fetch our guests some refreshments.’  
‘Lara is our newest follower,’ she called after Roshan.  
‘I don’t think he likes me,’ Lara muttered sadly.  
‘Roshan is… well, Roshan is just Roshan.’ Celia laughed meekly to herself.

Chapter 29 – Maiya

It didn’t take long to track Lady Shannah down, especially with Corbin around. She was staying on the northern outskirts of Aze with the Evergreen family, just like Emily Evergreen had said to Arkael at court several days ago.  
Shannah couldn’t be happier to see Arkael again.  
‘There has to be some misunderstanding,’ she began in a flustered rant. She had taken her guests up to her room, except for Vega who had to wait outside the Evergreen manor. ‘He took everything! My potions, my clothes, my money, everything! He took Vieya too!’  
‘Who did?’ Arkael asked calmly.  
‘Mr Fossil.’  
Corbin had been holding in a laugh ever since Shannah had showed them her bare room. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. ‘Bahah! I’m sorry, hah!’  
Arkael shot him a quizzical look. ‘What are you laughing for?’  
‘I’ll tell you later.’  
‘Shannah, why did you send a spy after me?’ Arkael turned back to the noble lady, remaining eerily calm.  
‘I never sent a spy. I sent trackers out to find you, because I wanted to see you again. They were just meant to find you and give you a message. Mr Fossil told me to leave you alone, but what have I got left to lose now? Everything has gone.’  
‘Now you know how I feel,’ Arkael said grimly. ‘You were still –’ he wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to say but that didn’t matter anyway. He was struck with a terrible migraine and had to grab onto the empty wardrobe for support.   
Xirelia clutched her head as well, seemingly hit with the same internal pain.   
‘Are you all right?’ Corbin rushed over to his companions where they were both blinking rapidly, seeing stars in front of their eyes.   
‘I – this happened last time,’ Arkael frowned, remembering when he had collapsed at Shannah’s home. ‘You’re not wearing your necklace, Shannah?’  
She blushed with embarrassment. ‘He took that as well.’  
‘You knew what it was, didn’t you, Shannah?’  
‘My father gave me that necklace,’ she began to sniff back tears.   
Corbin continued to stifle his laughter, which caused Shannah to lash out. ‘Can you tell your slave to be quiet!’  
‘He’s not –’ Arkael gave up again, his head hammering too harshly to concentrate.   
‘I’m not his slave!’ Corbin barked, no longer seeing the amusing side of Arkarien’s work. ‘She’s a liar! She knew full well that she hired an assassin.’  
‘There’s that dark presence again…’ Xirelia uttered, still massaging her head. ‘Dark and heavy, the only thing I ever knew. The smell of parchment, fire and blood, his smell.’  
‘I’ve had enough of this!’ Shannah cried with outrage. Months of planning had been destroyed by one ignorant thief. She flung her hands towards Corbin and flames shot up his lithe body.   
He acted instantly, throwing off his singed cloak and rolling across the bedroom, away from the spell.  
Arkael had to blink several times at the sight of Shannah’s sudden magical power. He flicked his wrist lazily and the flames surrounding Corbin extinguished.   
‘Where did you learn that?’ Arkael was horrified but his voice remained monotone.   
Shannah was getting desperate. She uttered a quick incantation, the words were cutting and blood sprayed from her arm.   
Arkael felt a searing pain across his own arm, the sleeve of his jacket tore open and blood gushed from him as well. Whatever Shannah was casting was a darker form of magic. Blood magic to be precise.   
He was inside again with Xirelia. It was a pity that he had practiced most of his spells outside on the deck of The Envy. Arkael could call down lightning, start fires, throw air around and call waves forth, but all of those things were futile inside a manor house. Instead he pushed his hands forwards in the same way he had lashed out at Corbin in Ayrev.   
Shannah flew back as well, and wasn’t quite so nimble to jump back onto her feet. She hit the side wall of her room, blood spilling onto her dress. The blood only made her more powerful, adding fuel to her magic.   
Arkael was still struggling through his migraine. In that instant he was struck with the horrifying realisation that Xirelia had been right all along.   
‘Zhander, aid your loyal servant!’ Shannah screamed, confirming everyone’s suspicions. She lifted herself off the floor at the same time as Arkael summoned fire to consume her.  
Wind span around the noblewoman, sucking the fire up as well as a flurry of white arrows.   
‘I can’t move!’ Xirelia shouted over the chaos.  
Corbin gave up with his bow, which was a struggle inside anyway. He brandished his dark dagger, and flung himself at the female sorcerer.  
Shannah shot him a glare and the wind surrounding her redirected, pushing Corbin back violently. He smashed into the large window, shattered glass raining down on his head as the gust of strong wind pushed him outside.   
‘Corbin!’ Xirelia had to watch helplessly as he disappeared out the window, still unable to move her limbs. It was like she was being un-summoned, ripped away from the world and Arkael’s side.  
‘I killed Zhander,’ even as Arkael said it, he doubted the words. ‘I killed him.’  
‘So he had everyone think,’ Shannah replied, wearing a triumphant grin. ‘Zhander wields incomprehensible power, you couldn’t possibly defeat him. There’s no way you can beat me either, not after Zhander gifted me with your own magic. I wonder how he will reward me for finally capturing you.’  
Arkael was almost too enraged to think straight. His body froze up in the same way Xirelia was trapped. Her illusion was stripped from her and she was in her demonic form, her dark wings spreading across the room, her skin like embers. All Xirelia could do was scream as Shannah’s blood ritual ripped her away from Arkael.  
Her shrill scream was torture to his ears, he fought to keep her there, fought to reach out for her. He hastily spoke the words that summoned her to him in the first place. ‘Es astas krell vas tas!’ he repeated over and over, still unable to move. Shannah was right, he couldn’t fight her. If she was truly at the peak of the power that Zhander had taken from him, she could easily blow up the whole manor home if she wanted to.  
Shannah approached her victims, savouring her victory. Blood dripped from her arm and Xirelia continued to cry in agony.  
Shannah ripped the black satchel bag from Arkael’s shoulder and removed the dagger from his belt. She then proceeded to empty the contents on the wooden floor – pencils, notebooks, oat biscuits, a water flask, the demonic tome and the silver locket from Amar’lia the high-elf dropped out. He still had no idea what that locket was meant for. If it could save him now, he’d greatly appreciate the seemingly random gift.   
Shannah only had eyes for the old tome. ‘I already tried to take Xirelia away from you in Ayrev. I’d hoped you would turn on her and abandon her, but your mind was harder to twist than I thought. Zhander was very displeased with me for letting you get away… not this time. If Zhander can’t have Xirelia back, no one can have her!’ with her final insult, Shannah drove the shining obsidian dagger down into the demonic tome and ignited it with her other hand, watching it burn brightly.  
Xirelia let out one last scream, which was abruptly cut short as she vanished from the room. Vanished from existence, leaving only a ruby and black diamond necklace behind and a set of playing cards.  
Arkael let out a guttural, unintelligible shout as Xirelia was taken from him. The only person he could trust, his best friend, the only one he had ever seen as his equal. Still he was cursed with the splitting headache, his ears rang and his vision blurred. She has my power and she’s slowly killing me with it.  
Shannah stepped back up to him, still holding his dagger. ‘Taking your hands should make you nice and docile for Zhander, maybe your tongue as w –’  
Her taunting was cut short by the spray of small knives that had imbedded into her side. Corbin turned again, opening his long leather coat to throw his second set of small knives.   
Shannah wasn’t caught off guard this time and blocked the black knives with a gust of wind. She pushed the spell at him again, but this time he didn’t fly out the window. Corbin hit the cold, hard wall, his hair already stained crimson and he remained slumped on the floor.  
Corbin’s distraction had been enough to break Shannah’s concentration, which gave Arkael time to free himself. There was no holding back anymore.   
A bolt of lightning shot down through the ceiling and thunder rumbled in the distance. Arkael called forth the storm and the whole manor shook.  
In Shannah’s pain and panic she cast her arms forwards and pushed a torrent of flames towards her enemy.  
Time seemed to freeze around him. His eyes glowed pure white and he felt a new energy course through him.   
Shannah’s fire went out and the storm rumbled in the distance. The whole room froze over, ice cracking as it formed along the walls and floors.  
Shannah stumbled back in shock. ‘What are you?’ she gaped. ‘What are you?!’ she’d seen Arkael raise fire before, she had drafted poisons and witnessed a mysterious thief change his voice and face and miraculously steal her necklace. She had seen Zhander summon demons, inflict pain without a weapon and disappear completely; she even heard his voice in her head, heard his calling with promises of a higher power. But Lady Shannah Eshra had never seen power like this before.   
Arkael wasn’t even using blood magic, as he levitated off the icy floor, his eyes still eradiating brilliant light.   
Shannah thought she was seeing a god in the flesh, and she felt gravely mistaken for her actions. ‘Forgive me,’ she stumbled further onto her knees. ‘I should have served you instead. You are truly remarkable, Arkael.’  
‘Kill her,’ spoke a voice from the back of Arkael’s head. It sounded feminine, but he knew that it wasn’t Xirelia. It was too much to hope that Xirelia was still with him.   
‘I intend to,’ Arkael spoke aloud in a booming voice that was unlike his own. His black hair and his clothes rippled slowly as if he was in a completely different realm. A completely different level of power that Shannah couldn’t take her eyes off.  
‘Your first mistake was betraying me,’ he bellowed, and the ice moulded around Shannah’s legs, freezing her to the floor.  
‘Your second mistake was stealing from ME!’ Arkael summoned more lightning through the opening in the roof.   
The flashes blinded Shannah and she screamed in terror. ‘Please! I can serve you! I’ll spy on Zhander for you!’  
Arkael could barely hear her. Even he wasn’t sure who was in control anymore, me or my power? ‘But your gravest mistake of all…’ he rumbled, raising a hand to the air, closing it into a tight fist, ‘was TAKING HER!’   
Arkael brought his arm back down and a massive bolt of controlled lightning surged through Shannah and the rest of the building. Her body fell through the floor and a trail of fire went down after her and only then did the storm subside.  
Corbin was now sat slumped against the frosty wall, steel-grey eyes open wide. ‘Oh my – oh sweet Viscar have mercy,’ he uttered a swift prayer in awe.   
Arkael descended back onto the ice covered floor and time felt hazy and slow around him again. He could only guess that his eyes had returned to normal, that he was back in control.   
He stooped down to gather up the remains of his demonic tome, but the pages were burnt away and with it the demonic scripture that bound Xirelia to the mortal world. Why didn’t I memorise it? Why didn’t I make a copy of it? Arkael cursed himself inside his head. He picked up the necklace that he had gifted to Xirelia and held it close to his chest.  
A movement of white caught his eye and he glanced up to find a woman levitating over the hole in the floor. No, she couldn’t be a woman, she was ghostly and pale and there was something not quite right about her shape.  
She was slender and so tall that her head nearly scraped the damaged ceiling. Her clothes were as white as her skin, a simple dress swirling around her thin frame. Her hair was blue like the sky, but the most alarming thing of all was her eyes. The spirit woman’s eyes glowed white.  
Arkael could still sense that time, for whatever reason, had stood still. He felt like he was in a dream, where there was no sense of place or time; those things became irrelevant. But he could feel and smell, his heart ached for Xirelia’s loss and he knew that he was still conscious.   
‘Are you a demon?’ Arkael continued to stare up at the floating woman.  
‘No,’ she spoke in a familiar, ethereal voice. ‘I’ve always been with you, Arkael.’  
He claimed to know a lot, but even Arkael was clueless now. ‘The opposite then? An angel?’  
‘I am air, I am water, I am life, I am power, I am hope, and I am everything pure. My children call me Maiya, Mother White Dragon.’   
‘You’re… what? This isn’t happening?’ Arkael was confused and aggravated. Now that Shannah was gone, his head no longer ached at least. He looked to Corbin in the corner of the room – he was frozen, his face fixed in mid-sentence.   
‘I was there when you came into this world,’ Maiya explained soothingly. ‘You never wondered where your power came from? Your father wanted my gift but it only corrupted him. Nothing is more innocent and pure than a baby. I had fears that my essence would fall into the wrong hands again, so I channelled it into you. It was always the piece that Zhander could never take away.’  
‘What?’ Arkael snapped in denial. ‘You’re saying there was nothing special about me? My power was always you?’  
‘You are special, in the fact that you never picked a side. I fade as my children forget me, but you were always unbiased.’  
Arkael’s jaw locked in anger. ‘Why did you never come to me before?’  
‘I’m only a small piece of you, and you were still growing. When you bound to Xirelia, I had to make room for her. She always knew that I was here, but she never knew what I was.’  
The spirit woman was right. He remembered one of the first things that Xirelia ever said to him, in her playful, giggling voice, ‘…I’ve heeded warning to Zhander’s previous apprentices, but they were never strong enough to fight back. There’s something different about you, Arkael. You’re far more powerful.’   
‘I want her back. I need her,’ Arkael seethed. He hated asking for help, but he was truly lost without Xirelia.  
‘Then go find her,’ Maiya said, as if it was a simplicity. ‘I’ll still protect you, like I’ve always protected us. Protect the innocent.’  
The ethereal woman with blue hair disappeared and time continued to travel forwards.  
‘- glad you’re alive though,’ Corbin finished the sentence that Arkael hadn’t heard the beginning of.   
‘I’m guessing you didn’t just see the giant woman floating in the room?’ Arkael growled with a frown. He needed confirmation that he wasn’t losing his mind.  
‘What woman? I saw you obliterate Shannah…’ Corbin got to his feet shakily, brushing broken glass from his hair. ‘Is – is Xirelia gone?’  
‘Yes. But I should be able to bring her back.’  
‘Let me help you, in any way that I can.’  
Arkael nodded hesitantly. ‘What were you laughing about, anyway?’  
‘Huh? Oh, Arkarien must have been here. He said he wanted to humiliate Shannah.’  
‘And now she’s dead,’ the warlock stared down the deep hole that ran through the manor. He’d intended to drive Shannah into the ground, and that was exactly what his magic had done, or was it Maiya’s magic? ‘But Zhander is still around. That’s one too many betrayers.’  
‘We’ll get that magic stealing bastard, don’t you worry buddy,’ Corbin vowed with furious passion.  
‘You were right about one thing, Corbin,’ Arkael said, not looking at his companion, just staring down the hole he had made still. ‘I didn’t hesitate to save your life.’  
‘Yeah, thanks for putting that fire out. I’d look pretty daft with no hair, huh? I guess we’re even now?’  
Arkael ignored him and cursed under his breath. He was still staring distantly into the empty abyss. Xirelia can’t just be gone. ‘What was the point in all of this?’   
‘In what?’  
He was still full of rage, and tired enough to be irrationally frustrated. ‘My miserable existence! I don’t know what’s worse, to have been born ordinary, or to have been betrayed like this. Maybe I was always destined to be alone…’  
‘Don’t say that. We can find Xirelia again, can’t we?’  
‘Perhaps, if it’s not too late. There was a gate summoning demons. Johan went after it.’  
‘You mean you want to go towards the demonic gate? Great, this day couldn’t get anymore strange,’ Corbin said wearily and put his bow on his aching back.  
‘It may be the only way to bring Xirelia back,’ Arkael snapped.  
Corbin held up his hands defensively. ‘I’m all for a trip to hell to get Xirelia back. I know how much she means to you.’  
Only now that she was gone did Arkael realise how important Xirelia was to him. He missed the sound of her voice already.   
‘So where is this gate?’ Corbin asked, picking up his scorched woollen cloak and sighed.  
‘In the city somewhere, I suspect.’  
‘So we find Johan Aldus and we find the demon gate?’   
‘Can you find him?’   
‘Maybe,’ Corbin shrugged. ‘Vega might be able to smell him out.’  
‘Let’s not waste any more time then,’ Arkael growled.   
‘I suppose there’s no time to acquire a new cloak?’ he jested delicately.  
‘No,’ he growled again, leaving the shattered room with deadly purpose. ‘It’s time I take everything away from Zhander.’

Chapter 30 – Broken

Vega ran like the wind, her bushy auburn tail bouncing up and down. She was a very clever wolf. She checked every corner of the city for the scent of demons.   
Corbin sat in the centre of Aze, under the dark marble statue of Emperor Cassin, the fountain water tinkling gently behind him. He awaited Vega’s return, whilst rubbing his aching neck. ‘Your cut looks pretty bad.’  
Arkael appeared caught off guard. He was sat on the cobbled ground, below the statue and the fountain, a glare fixed on his face. ‘You were a fool for coming back. A fool for fighting Shannah.’  
‘It’s my occupation,’ Corbin uttered with a small smile.   
‘Why did you do it? She could have killed you.’  
‘We’re friends, remember?’  
Arkael let out a long sigh. ‘What sort of a friend am I? I didn’t protect Xirelia, I didn’t listen to her when she warned me about Shannah. I should have fought harder for her.’  
‘You gave Shannah a chance,’ Corbin said slowly, stripping his burnt cloak up into pieces. ‘You showed her mercy. Virtues that put you above her and Zhander.’  
‘What good are virtues when Xirelia is gone? And it was all my fault,’ he snapped viciously, but it wasn’t fully focused on his companion. Arkael had never loathed himself so much as he did now, and he couldn’t work out why either.  
Corbin dunked a strip of his torn up cloak into the fountain and slid down to join his friend’s side. ‘Give me your arm.’  
‘Is that clean?’  
‘Pretty clean. I can get some alcohol if you prefer, but it will burn.’  
Arkael was still too exhausted to argue. He reluctantly submitted his arm to Corbin, who gently cleaned the long cut up his arm. Not even he had practiced a wounding spell like the one that Shannah had used. There was no art in it, no creativity; it was just crude, lazy magic.   
The half-elf used more strips of his woollen cloak to bandage up his friend’s arm. ‘So if the gate is somewhere around here, why are there no demons in the city?’  
‘Zhander can’t know what he’s doing. He’s just randomly spitting demons out in the easiest spots – where our realm is weakest – near the Vail Wall.’  
‘I see. How’s that?’ Corbin checked, tying the improvised bandage into place.  
‘Very tight. Are you trying to remove my arm?’  
‘Then it’s perfect. I take it you didn’t suffer many wounds before?’  
‘No, you opened a whole new wonderful world to me.’  
Corbin chuckled lightly. ‘Did that bolt leave a scar in your side?’  
‘Yes, yes it did.’  
‘I’m sorry for that. At least it isn’t on your face, like Kalania’s father.’  
‘Good evening, gentlemen,’ said a cool voice beneath a dark cowl. Johan Aldus stood over the pair, appearing without a sound and every part of his skin covered from the sunlight.   
Vega soon followed after the vampire, leaping towards Corbin to put her large paws on his knees. He scratched her behind the ears and fed her a chicken treat.  
‘I’m glad I found your wolf,’ Johan spoke again, his face completely hidden in shadow. His red coat and sword were evidence enough of his identity.   
‘Vega is a clever girl,’ Corbin smiled and the wolf continued to take food gently from his hand.  
‘I found the gate stones. I thought I wouldn’t touch them after Lara had her soul drained.’   
‘Where are they?’ Arkael asked eagerly, but he looked weary.   
‘Under the city.’  
‘Take us there.’  
Johan’s cowl shifted. ‘I don’t see Xirelia.’  
‘You have a keen set of eyes,’ he muttered dryly.  
‘Which explains why you’re so eager to see the demon gate.’  
‘We want Zhander, too,’ Corbin stood up and Vega circled him.  
‘Can I make a suggestion?’ the vampire put his gloved hands together. ‘You make preparations first? Now you’re no longer bound to Xirelia, anything could get inside your head. Unless you want to mark your bodies like the Gardozian Knights, which they won’t be too happy about, I suggest that you get a hold of a lucky silver medallion.’   
‘Arkarien gave one to Kalania,’ Arkael stated intelligently. ‘Shannah did have one as well.’  
Johan nodded. ‘He also gave one to his daughter.’  
‘You’ve seen Lara?’ Corbin perked up.  
‘Yes, she’s in Vane.’  
‘That’s handy, but I don’t think Kalania wants to see me again.’   
‘At last, I will get to see the Glade Spire,’ Arkael uttered coldly, finally getting to his feet.

*** 

The travellers reached Vane the next evening. Arkael had remained wordless and Corbin had never seen a man so broken. Anyone with less patience would have left Arkael’s side months ago, and the warlock still couldn’t work out why Corbin stayed around.  
‘So, how exactly is Celia going to fix Lara’s eyesight?’ Corbin asked as he followed Johan up the rocky bank of the small island. On the ship journey there, the Alois follower had filled in many gaps but not all the details.  
‘It’s a secret,’ he replied playfully beneath his cowl.  
‘Can Celia use magic?’   
‘Only the magic that Alois gives her.’ Johan travelled on ahead, making it to the Glade Spire in no time at all. The blue-grey stone tower could be seen from the shores of Claynore, and now Arkael, Corbin and Vega were finally at the foot of it for the first time. An unsettling quietness surrounded the building.   
Corbin ran forwards with little regard for his own health, filled with an eagerness to see Lara again. Vega bounded after him, following him through the large navy blue door. Arkael dragged his heels inside.  
‘You must be hungry,’ Johan welcomed them into the circular entrance room of the tower. It only contained a few squashy armchairs, a small table and a tall bookshelf. ‘We have a kitchen upstairs.’  
Arkael remained silent and headed straight to the concealed spiral staircase to find his dinner for himself.  
‘I’ve seen that same look in a mirror before,’ Johan said solemnly, letting his cowl down to reveal his pasty white face.   
‘I thought vampires didn’t have reflections,’ Corbin spoke without really thinking. Something he was often good at.  
The priest only looked mildly amused and gestured for his guest to ascend the stone steps next.  
The first floor of the tower wasn’t very warm, but it was less eerie. Mainly due to the sound of Lara’s voice, which always had a way of filling rooms with cheer. A large circular table filled the centre of the room and that was where Lara sat, gleefully tearing up bread to share with her brother. Arkael was sat as far away as possibly from the both of them, playing with his bowl of watery soup.  
Arkael had been born into a world of grey, but now Xirelia was gone, it felt as though the colour had truly been drained from his world.  
‘Corbin,’ Elijah Haylin sounded bewildered to see the half-elf.  
‘That’s not funny, Eli,’ Lara scoffed into her bowl.  
‘No, really, he’s here.’  
‘Hello,’ Corbin uttered meekly, moving around the large table.   
Vega followed, soon resting her chin on the blind woman’s lap.  
Johan had already left his guests to reunite, continuing to march up the Glade Spire.  
Lara’s spoon clattered to the floor and she beamed at the sound of her friend’s voice and the warmth of Vega’s fur. ‘Did you find Arkael?’  
Corbin pulled out the chair beside her. ‘He’s here.’  
‘He is?! I assumed that was just Roshan over there, brooding silently.’  
‘Roshan?’  
‘He’s one of the Alois priests, and he’s rather mean.’  
Elijah looked across the table then. He never was very good with faces or names, but there was one name he would never forget. ‘Where’s Xirelia?’  
Arkael left the table and his untouched food, wearing a sour expression on his face. He continued up to the next level, in search of solitude and a distraction for his heartache.  
‘He’s not in a good place,’ Corbin said in a hushed whisper. ‘You remember that I told you that Arkael’s mentor took his power?’  
Lara nodded. ‘Yes, that was what we saw from a distance, wasn’t it? Arkael and his mentor fighting, and we salvaged the aftermath.’  
Corbin half smiled at her, even if she couldn’t see it, she could hear it in his voice. He always sounded hopeful. ‘You’re already getting too clever in this place. Anyway, his mentor survived all that, or so it seems. And you remember that spy? We found the lady who sent the spy, and she turned out to be a blood crazed wizard. She sent Xirelia away.’  
‘Sent her away? What do you mean? Xirelia is dead?’   
Corbin darted his grey eyes from side to side.  
‘What is it, Corbin?’ Lara pressed, smiling playfully.  
‘Well, here’s the thing… it’s a funny story actually,’ he spoke awkwardly, picking her spoon up from the floor and rolling it in his palms. ‘Xirelia is, errm, something else. She’s a demon, for the lack of a better word. But a friendly demon. You’ve seen how she’s helped Arkael, and she’s never hurt anyone.’  
‘You’ve been travelling with a demon?’ Lara’s jaw dropped. ‘How long did you know?’  
‘About half way through the journey.’  
‘Damn it,’ Elijah cursed. ‘I knew she was too good to be true!’  
‘As if she would ever settle down with you,’ Lara teased her brother brashly.  
‘Hey, what are you trying to say?’  
‘I’m saying you’re not exactly every woman’s dream.’  
‘I’m multi-talented, wealthy, intelligent and most importantly handsome! What isn’t there to dream about?’  
‘You missed modest off that list,’ Lara snorted and grinned in Corbin’s general direction.  
Corbin shared her amusement. He was soon reminded of the reality of it all though. ‘Arkael’s had a tough time. It must be like if I was to have my fingers cut off and I could no longer climb or shoot a bow. Or if someone betrayed your family and took away your father’s business. The man who did this to Arkael, took his talent away, and is still out there on the hunt for him. And just when he thought he was getting stronger again – maybe even found his place in this world, Xirelia was taken from him.’  
Lara looked deflated. She knew no one else with a heart as big as Corbin’s. He only ever thought of his friends, he had a deep understanding of empathy. ‘Can you get her back?’  
‘I hope so… otherwise Arkael will slip into a darkness that not even I could drag myself out of.’  
She nodded again. ‘Maybe you should go find him, you know, in case he’s climbing onto a window ledge.’  
‘You make a good point,’ Corbin shot out of his chair and ran for the spiral staircase heading upwards.   
Vega remained by Lara’s side, waiting patiently for scraps.

***

‘Go away.’ Arkael sat in a dark, cold corner of the tower’s first library room. His gaze was fixed on the hard stone floor, his knuckles tucked under his chin. ‘I mean it Corbin. Leave me alone.’  
Corbin glanced around at all the books and was relieved to find only a small window, too small even for him to fit through. ‘Xirelia’s not here, but I can be the next best thing,’ he said, taking up a seat in one of the other vacant armchairs.  
Arkael remained silent.  
Corbin crossed his legs and began to check the white feathers on his arrows. ‘Maybe there’s a book in here that has something to do with demons,’ he mused absentmindedly.   
Arkael remained very interested with the stone floor still. He’d been thinking the same thing, but he just didn’t have the energy or patience to search every book in the Glade Spire.   
Corbin allowed more time to pass by. He couldn’t imagine how his companion was feeling but he knew that he couldn’t just turn his back on him. ‘Isn’t it your birthday tomorrow?’  
Arkael finally looked up, squinting across the room as if he was trying to disconcert a challenging puzzle.   
‘You’ll be nineteen, won’t you?’ he continued blithely.  
‘How can you remember that?’  
‘There’s not much I don’t remember,’ Corbin shrugged half-heartedly. ‘I remember Lara’s father sending you a letter and a fancy notebook to write down all the spells that you knew. Whether you got that present or not last year is another story.’  
‘No, I’ve never received anything from Arkarien.’  
‘Lester strikes again.’   
Arkael lent back in his seat, sighing disdainfully and digging his nails into the arms of the leather chair. He had no kind words for his father or any excuses for his actions either. ‘They had another child, you know,’ he said slowly.  
‘Recently?’  
‘Yes, I have a brother that I’ve never met,’ Arkael appeared to be talking to a bookshelf, but it was approximately the second time he was opening up to Corbin again.  
‘Well, we should make it our job to make sure that he isn’t treated like you were. I can’t believe how cruel he is.’  
Arkael’s silver eyes wandered to the floor again. Your father wanted my gift but it only corrupted him. The mysterious white spirit lady had been on his mind the entire journey and he was obstinate in believing that a goddess had given him his powers. He missed Xirelia more than he had ever missed anyone before. It was a new feeling for him. Arkael felt so lost and so full of doubt, he just wished that he had Xirelia here to talk to. He had gotten so used to talking to her in his mind, hearing her comforting, soothing voice. Now his head was only full of his own thoughts and none of them were comforting or reassuring. How can anyone live like this?   
Corbin sat silently with Arkael for several more minutes, until the broken man finally looked back up again. ‘You’re sure you want to come with me?’  
‘I’m sure,’ Corbin smiled lopsidedly back at him.  
‘It might be a one way trip.’  
‘Someone’s got to stop Zhander.’

Chapter 31 – Destined for Trouble

Corbin had sat with Arkael until a priest of Alois was sent down to show them where they could sleep for the night.   
Vega reunited with her owner and curled up on the foot of his bed. Due to that, Corbin woke up with numb feet. He stumbled out of bed, practically crawling until the blood returned to his feet and then toes.   
‘What did I tell you about beds, Vega?’  
The one eyed wolf ran round him twice and licked his face.   
He patted her head and chuckled. ‘I can’t stay mad at you. Shall we find some food?’  
The gentle animal nuzzled Corbin’s hand and followed him out of the small, stone walled bedroom.   
The Glade Spire had plenty of rooms for followers of Alois, but very few followers to fill those beds. The majority of them lived in the capital city and served the court as wise advisors or doctors.   
There was also plenty of food inside the tower, although none of it was very exciting. Corbin helped himself to bread and jam, and found a piece of dried pork for Vega.   
Elijah sat across from him, wearing a new set of priestly hooded robes.   
‘Where’s Lara?’ Corbin asked.  
‘I thought she was with you.’  
‘I don’t actually want your father to kill me.’  
Elijah wore that boisterous smile that all Haylins wore.   
Another Alois priest joined the round dinning table. He had dark skin and even darker hair. His eyes were dark as well and there was nothing kind about them. Only a calm and calculating gaze.   
‘Where is Lara?’ he also asked.  
‘Why do you care?’ Elijah snapped.  
‘I’m meant to be teaching her,’ the priest said dryly.  
Elijah set his mug of tea down with a heavy hand. ‘Do you really think that’s a good idea, Roshan?’   
‘It’s a horrible idea, but you’re teaching her too slowly.’   
‘You know she can’t see, right?’ he argued for his sister.   
‘I am aware of that.’

***

On her way downstairs to the kitchen, Lara stumbled down the stairs. She fell in darkness, reaching out desperately. In that split second she cursed herself for not concentrating more. Her mind was elsewhere and her fingers had been toying with the silver coin hanging from her neck.   
A strong pair of hands caught her before she hit cold stone.   
‘Thank you,’ she gasped breathlessly.  
‘Did you miss a step there?’  
Lara recognised his voice, even if her eyes couldn’t see Arkael’s face. The softness of his cloth jacket and his clean aroma were new however.  
‘I don’t know. I don’t think I was really awake yet,’ she replied meekly, still holding onto his arm for balance.  
‘You should be more careful.’  
‘Sorry.’ Lara felt her heart quicken and her cheeks fill with colour.   
‘I’ll go get Corbin.’  
‘Wait, please.’  
Arkael stood still, eye level with Lara as she stood on the upper step. He’d only taken a few steps out of his room before he noticed her tumbling down the spiral stairs, and it was inevitable that he would break her fall. It was odd looking into Lara’s blank sky-blue eyes, and knowing that she couldn’t read the indifferent expression on his face.   
Lara fumbled with her silver necklace. ‘I want you to take this. It will protect you from bad demons.’  
‘Is it enchanted?’ Arkael inquired with interest.   
‘I think so. My father found it.’  
‘I think Shannah owned this one,’ he mused, taking the dainty, unassuming jewellery from her. ‘Don’t you want something for it?’  
‘I want you to stay safe,’ she said quietly. She wasn’t her usual bold self around Arkael. She sensed his softer side, even if no one else could.   
He didn’t know what to say to that. He stared down at the silver coined medallion in his hand, engraved with two strange squiggles on one side, smooth on the other.   
‘You have to get Xirelia back. She sounds like a lot of fun, and I’m sad that I never really got to know her.’  
Arkael closed his hand around the small medallion and still had nothing to say. He’d received much affection at court for his looks and his family name, and women had given him gifts before. Gifts was a generous word, they were more like bribes. Lara, on the other hand, couldn’t see his face and her family was wealthy and withheld much respect already. Her gift had to be genuine, much like her words.   
He looked at her face again, noticing the freckles around her nose, every kink in her wavy brunette hair. Lara had filled out to her healthy size again and the colour had returned to her skin, yet her eyes were a constant reminder of what she had suffered.   
Lara smiled self-consciously as the silence between them grew. Her stomach rumbled, but she didn’t care. Arkael had saved her life, which meant she had all the time in the world for him.   
‘How do you do it?’ he eventually spoke, low enough to be a whisper.  
‘Do what?’ confusion spread between her dainty eyebrows.  
‘Hide your anger.’  
‘I’m not angry…’  
Arkael blinked a few times. ‘You were tormented for weeks and weeks, I thought your mind would be broken. Your eyes… you should be angry about that. Zhander took your sight from you.’  
‘It was my own fault. I was too curious.’  
‘You should be angry, you should hate him for cursing you.’  
Lara ran her fingers over a piece of her long hair. ‘It’s only a temporary dilemma. Alois will help me see again.’  
‘I doubt a god cares that much for a single mortal.’  
‘We’ll see about that, won’t we?’ she grinned wickedly. ‘This is the part where I’d usually make a dramatic exit, but I’m afraid I’ll fall again. I usually count the steps, but I don’t know which one I’m standing on now.’  
Arkael shook his head dismissively. How could she believe so blindly in futile things? Although, his curiosity had been sparked, and there was something undeniably adorable about Lara. He then did the unexpected. So unexpected he even surprised himself as he took her hand. Her fingers were cold and not at all as soft as he had expected. Lara had coarse hands from working with tools, climbing buildings and duelling with her triplet brothers.   
Arkael lead her slowly down the remaining steps that twirled around the tower. Helping her didn’t feel like a chore anymore.   
‘There you are,’ Corbin beamed brightly, his bright haired head appearing at the last few steps to the kitchen. He pretended to make nothing of their hand holding – their sudden arrival together – the fear. And it all made sense now. He would only ever be Lara’s friend, and no more than an older brother. Arkael was something new, mysterious and exciting. Haylin’s always needed a challenge. It wasn’t good enough to just have the first, convenient admirer. No, in their family you had to marry a general, a master thief – someone skilled and of high importance.   
Corbin was only ever a loyal puppy. Xirelia had seen than and had never hid it. She had always seen the truth in people and brought it to the surface. But could he accept that? He wasn’t entirely sure, but seeing Arkael and Lara standing next to each other looked so right. And that was what scared him. Lara could charm the teeth off a tiger; she had her father’s charisma. Even Arkael couldn’t dislike her.   
‘Happy Birthday, Arkael. I’ll get you both some breakfast,’ Corbin offered, still smiling like a dimwit. Playing the fool. It was all he was good for.  
‘It’s your Birthday?’ Lara said with bewilderment. 

***

Evening arrived all too fast. Corbin had been sat in the first library with Arkael again, the warlock deeply engrossed in a book. He’d been fussed over all day and constantly reminded that it was the day of his birth, yet he couldn’t see what all the attention was for. He was only another year older.   
Lara had soon joined them after her lessons with Roshan were finally done for the day. She complained about how cold and emotionless the elder priest was, mocking his stoic voice. ‘He wouldn’t even let me leave early to celebrate your Birthday!’  
Corbin laughed at her jokes and Arkael didn’t find it hard to tolerate her musical voice. Curious…   
Vega sat at her owner’s feet, contently chewing on a large meat bone.   
‘I’d go with you two if I wasn’t such a burden,’ Lara finally turned more sentimental as the evening grew old.  
‘No, no way! Your father would definitely see me hang,’ Corbin half joked.   
‘Nonsense. If I had my eyes, I’d be the one saving your butt from demons.’  
He grinned and got up from his chair.  
Lara sensed his movement. ‘Where are you going?’  
‘To get some air, won’t sleep otherwise,’ he let his answer hang in the air. Ordinarily Lara would jump up and join him. Ordinarily Lara wasn’t blind.   
‘Well, take your coat then. It will be chilly.’   
‘Fresh, you mean,’ only the left side of his face grinned. ‘Stay here, Vega.’  
The wolf watched him leave with her one blue eye, absentmindedly chewing on her bone.   
It was a huge relief to leave that room. Corbin sighed and wandered slowly down the spiralling stairs. He knew if Lara did have her eyesight, it would all be focused on Arkael.   
As he reached the final floor of the Glade Spire, Corbin began to hear voices. High Priestess Celia often held meetings in the entry room, but there was a new and familiar voice joining the conversation now.   
Corbin froze up behind the grey stonewall that concealed the staircase as he reluctantly listened in. It can’t be. Why would she be here?  
‘…I know this is tight time keeping for you, but there are few I can trust,’ Celia went on, using her most diplomatic tone.   
‘I have your word, then?’ spoke the undeniable and loud voice of Captain Kalania Salvodar. Her words always had meaning and a bite to them.  
Corbin crouched in the stairway. He was elated to hear her voice, but also afraid of showing his face to her again. Their parting had not gone as well as he’d planned. How have I been such a fool?   
‘Yes, the Empire’s fleet will not bother you or your ship,’ Celia said reassuringly.   
‘That’s all it is then? A small trip to Claynore, and then I go to Barass? For what reason?’ Kalania was still fiercely questioning.  
‘And a rental of your silver necklace,’ Johan’s voice reminded cordially.   
‘Barass has many riches for you to exploit,’ continued the high priestess of Alois.  
‘I’m not into slave trading. Too messy.’  
‘I’m not talking about the slaves there.’  
Kalania went quiet for a moment, clearly studying something that had been revealed to her. ‘Look, I don’t understand you religious types. Do you expect me to believe that Arkarien really sent me to work for you? Are you in bed with him, or something?’   
Celia only laughed.   
Johan let out a noise that sounded something like a suppressed growl.   
‘You’re all mad. Fine,’ Kalania’s booted heels clicked on the cold floor as she made a move. ‘I’ll be a pawn in your little game, but if you screw me, you better bet that my blade find your back. No one screws a Salvodar… unless that’s what we want.’  
‘You should work on your insults,’ Johan sniggered coolly.   
‘I’m well aware of your parent’s backstabbing ways,’ Celia sounded lightly amused.   
Kalania’s boots clicked a few more times and she sighed loudly. ‘And I want a house in Aze. A big one.’  
‘Very well.’  
‘The necklace,’ Johan reminded again.   
A chain jangled and then the sound of metal against stone was enough evidence to tell that Kalania had impatiently thrown the necklace on the floor. ‘For what good that was worth,’ she finalised irritably.   
Corbin heard her deliberately noisy footsteps stomp closer to the stairs. He pressed himself into the wall, panicking, his body still frozen. It was too late to scamper away. He straightened up, feigning curiosity as he pretended to innocently walk down the rest of the stairs.  
Kalania’s fiery red hair came into view as she ascended the same set of stairs. She instantly spotted Corbin and her beautiful face twisted into a sneer.   
‘Kal –’ he acted surprised.   
He truly was surprised when she stormed up the steps between them and grabbed his arm. Corbin braced for impact, expecting the captain to bounce him off the hard walls.   
Kalania span him around and tugged him up the stairs with incredible strength. ‘Where’s the kitchen? They must have something fancy to drink here. Religious folk always do.’  
‘Uh-uh-uhh,’ his voice caught in his throat, words struggling to come out. ‘Cherry wine?’  
‘That will do.’  
Corbin gestured to the room they arrived in. ‘This is it.’  
‘I can’t believe I’m here. I should have known you were here too. Fighting demons? Don’t even get me started,’ she let go of him and rifled the kitchen cupboards. ‘You were listening in then, were you?’  
Corbin swallowed nervously. He busied himself with lighting more candles in the room until Kalania’s hair glowed blood red. Gods, she was beautiful.  
‘So we set sail in the morning,’ she uncorked a dark green bottle and drank from it. ‘Not bad stuff.’  
She moved to the round table but seemed reluctant to take a seat.  
Corbin stared down at the candle flame in the centre of the table, the tension in the room almost at exploding point. He knew he should leave her alone, but he didn’t want to.   
‘Are you going to talk, or is that it?’ Kalania threw a hand forward as if she was backhanding the air.  
‘You didn’t want to see me again. I’m trying to be unseen.’  
‘You thought I was being serious? Of course I wasn’t being serious. I was drunk and tired… and I hated myself afterwards.’  
‘What now? Are we still friends?’ Corbin finally looked her in the eye. There was so much fire behind those pale eyes of hers.  
Her face twisted again. ‘Were we ever friends? Did you just pretend to be interested in me? Was that fun for you?’  
‘I would never pretend,’ he suddenly fought back. There was nothing docile about Corbin now – now that a nerve had been touched. A fire was building in his chest again, a passion that he couldn’t fight down.   
Kalania looked mildly astounded.   
The half-elf moved towards her, snatching the tall bottle from her hand. ‘This won’t fix your problems,’ he declared and threw the bottle hard at the floor. The dark glass shattered and an even darker wine spilled out onto the stone, spreading up the back of a wooden chair and seeping into Corbin’s leather boots.  
Kalania looked even more astounded, her lips parting slightly.   
‘You think you’re the only one who hurts? Maybe if you weren’t so drunk all the time, you would see the other people around you,’ Corbin rebuked without thought. There was no thought, only passion – he was his mother’s son after all, and sooner or later, some of that heated rage was bound to come out.   
‘How can you be hurt? It was nothing for you. My cards were always on the table, you just took pity on me,’ Kalania argued back without any signs of relent. ‘I was just practice for you. Practice for when it came to Lara Haylin.’  
‘Pity? Practice?’ Corbin’s eyes grew wide. Usually when he was this heated up his bow would come out. His bow was upstairs in his room and his target was dear to him. ‘I’m sorry, this must be something new to you. A man with feelings? That can’t possibly be real.’  
‘You’re really testing my patience, Corbin Balvine,’ she raised a finger menacingly. ‘You were just like every other man, you used me and then you ran away!’  
‘This is unbelievable. You have to understand, you were asking me to leave all my friends and family behind,’ he growled, equally menacing. He’d never met someone who brought the worse out in him like Kalania did, and he didn’t know how he felt about it.  
‘I thought that would be enough,’ she lowered her voice to a husky, hurt tremor. ‘I thought I would have been enough.’  
All the anger ebbed away from him then. She was like a cat without her claws now, and it must have been so hard for her to admit the truth.   
‘There, I said it,’ she said proudly, flicking her long hair behind her shoulders.  
‘I can’t give you what you want,’ he admitted dejectedly.   
‘You’re the only thing I want.’  
Corbin couldn’t understand, why me? Then he was reminded of that one simple truth that his mother always used to say; you can’t choose the people you love. ‘I’ve been so blind,’ he muttered at last.   
‘Yes, you have,’ a smirk spread across her lovely face. ‘So, are you going to clean that mess up?’

Chapter 32 – The Distance Between

Lara had sat for a long time with Arkael in the library. Her brother had come to help her to her room but she had rejected the offer, and Corbin hadn’t even returned at all. She couldn’t be tired with Arkael around.   
He wasn’t quite so energetic. His eyes felt heavy and he found himself reading the same line repeatedly in the alchemy book that rested in his hands. Arkael remained staring at the page, wondering what would have been worse; to lose his eyesight or lose his magic completely. He decided that losing Xirelia was the worst thing of all.   
She was like a distant memory, even though she had been taken away only a few days ago. In his silence he relived all the moments with her. As he did every night, and half expected to awake to Xirelia watching over him. But she didn’t. She was never there.   
He relived all of it; her sultry singing, her joyful dancing. Every touch, embrace and kiss. Her sweet perfume, scandalous clothes, her silken river of black hair, and her most captivating thing of all – her green wolf eyes. He even craved to see her in her demonic form again, proof that she was something extraordinary.   
Even the darker stuff he remembered. How he hadn’t felt like himself and had threatened to hit her, but now he thought about it, he was sure that Shannah had been using some sort of magic to tear them apart. It had almost worked. Arkael remembered the way every man looked hungrily at Xirelia, and how much he began to hate it.   
She’d always look back at him with adoration, and he was determined to see that look again more than anything. He wanted her back, he wanted to hold her and never let her go again.  
‘Are you asleep?’ Lara uttered within the tranquil room.   
‘No,’ Arkael replied softly, shutting his alchemy book. Remembering where he really was. He wasn’t going to let Xirelia become just a memory.   
‘Your breathing became harsh, I thought you’d dozed off…’  
‘Not far from it.’  
‘Is Vega asleep?’  
Arkael glanced at the wolf, who had curled up on Corbin’s long empty chair and fallen asleep a while ago. ‘Yes.’  
‘Sleeping is the worse thing of all for me,’ Lara admitted quietly. She didn’t often show her weaknesses in front of anyone.  
‘Nightmares?’  
‘Yeah, but that’s not the only thing. When I sleep, I see pictures and colours again of things I remember or have made up in my mind. I’m forgetting what everyone’s faces look like… I wake up and it’s dark again.’  
Arkael straightened in his chair and rubbed his tired eyes. ‘What do you see in your nightmares?’  
‘The demon that hunted me, with its sharp claws and many teeth. Green, sparkling light,’ Lara said thoughtfully. The candle beside her had burnt out but her face was still visible to read. She didn’t look scared. ‘A tall figure with his face hidden. Spilled blood. I’m usually running through that dark forest again, calling out for help but it never comes. I always fall over in the end. Something awful usually happens to my family, or Corbin, or you…’  
‘And do you still hear a woman’s voice?’ he asked inquisitively.   
‘A woman? No.’  
‘See a bright light?’   
Lara looked puzzled. ‘No, only coloured light. Usually green, sometimes orange.’  
Arkael was starting to think that he hadn’t woken Lara up at all, that it had been Maiya instead. But then that would make Maiya real, and everything he believed in false. ‘Did you see a woman in white when you awoke – when the curse was broken?’  
‘Only pure white light and a calm voice.’   
Arkael got up from his chair suddenly. It suddenly began to make sense. ‘The light blinded you, not Zhander’s demon.’  
Lara only looked more puzzled.   
He wanted to know more about this dragon goddess, Maiya. What exactly was she? What had his father attempted to do with her?   
‘The light didn’t blind you, though?’ her ears tracked him as he moved across the round room.  
‘My eyes glow white,’ he muttered to himself instead of replying. ‘When I blew up his mansion… there was always another part of me that I couldn’t control. Another part that should never have been put there. But I’m still me, my power is me.’  
‘You’ve really lost me now.’  
Arkael was energised by his realisation, and he stopped beside Lara’s armchair. ‘Could I possibly try something?’   
She looked slightly apprehensive. ‘I can’t cast spells now, if that’s what you’re getting at.’  
‘I need you to try and talk to the lady again. Maybe your eyes can be fixed if you ask her.’ Arkael was close enough for Lara to feel the timbre of his voice. He had to know if Maiya was real and not just a post traumatic illusion.   
‘Sure. Do I just clear my mind? I’ve been practicing a lot of that around here.’  
‘If you please.’  
Lara shut her eyes, despite the difference it made. She felt his hot hand upon her forehead and felt silly for savouring his touch.   
Arkael stood very still, his eyes shut also, and willing his power to see into her mind’s eye.

***

Corbin had managed to get Kalania to drink straight water and share an apple with him before leaving the kitchen.   
He had shown her to one of the many spare rooms but she gave him a look as if to say, ‘I only want your room.’  
‘I suppose these rooms are quite cold… haven’t had a fire in them for quite a while,’ Corbin said coyly.   
‘You could keep me warm,’ Kalania flirted.   
He could see her perfectly in the dim light of the stairwell, and he found that he didn’t want to look away. She was his first love after all.   
‘That will be all it is,’ he was still coy and slightly embarrassed. He backed up and descended the same stairs. It had been hard for him to see Kalania; to understand the level in which she cared about him, even if she had a funny way of showing it. Corbin had been so concerned with other people that he had overlooked Kalania’s affections as just playful jest. The truth was she had never been so serious in her life about anything or anyone.   
‘The bed is tiny,’ she pointed out, looking around his narrow, half-moon shaped room. It was pretty empty, besides the small metal fireplace and his white recurve bow propped up against the wall beside his matching quiver of arrows.  
‘You can go back upstairs,’ he raised a playful eyebrow.  
‘Oh, that wasn’t a complaint,’ Kalania kicked off her boots and removed her tight fitting jacket. It was made of black lace and trimmed with emerald green, which happened to match the sails of her new ship. The frigate was even more magnificent than the last and remained The Envy. She was a proud captain indeed, and proud to wear the colours of her sails.   
Corbin removed his own wine stained boots and stoked the fire with a metal prong. When he straightened up, Kalania was already tucked up in his bed, crimson hair curling around her face. She watched him keenly with her blue-grey eyes, and waited for him to say something.   
‘Ah,’ he hit his head as he remembered something. ‘I told Vega to wait downstairs.’  
‘Is that a problem?’ Kalania batted her eyelashes.   
‘No-no, I suppose there isn’t room for three in the bed.’  
‘Oh, I wondered what that smell was.’  
‘Ah, is it bad?’ Corbin stood awkwardly beside the bed. He felt as though he was intruding, even though it had been his room the previous night.  
‘Corbin, I live on a ship surrounded by unwashed men. This is practically the height of cleanliness.’   
‘That’s an unpleasant image.’  
‘Just get in the damn bed, will you? I don’t bite… usually.’  
Corbin obeyed, slipping under the feather covers with her. She quickly tucked herself under his arm and rested her warm face on his chest.   
He felt like he had a million and one things on his mind to tell her, but the words never formed. He wanted to know how she had been most of all.   
‘You’re not sleeping with Lara, then?’ Kalania asked boldly. Words were never a trouble for her.  
‘What makes you say that?’ Corbin was rightly surprised.  
‘You always talked of her, with your big, sad puppy dog eyes.’  
‘She was in a coma, Kalania.’  
Her rouge lips spread across her pale face. She couldn’t deny that she liked hearing her name leave his precious lips. ‘Would you kill for her? Like you killed Varnette for me?’  
‘To protect her, of course. I’d do that for all my friends.’  
‘Hmm,’ Kalania traced a finger across his chest, feeling the warmth of his lithe body through his plain shirt. ‘I do wonder about your moral compass, sometimes.’  
‘I don’t follow a strict code, if that’s what you mean.’  
‘Then perhaps you wouldn’t have made a very good First Mate after all.’  
‘It’s nothing personal. I just hate water.’  
Kalania let out a husky giggle and kissed Corbin’s cheek. She kissed him again – and just once more, she told herself – but she couldn’t help herself. She was soon rolling on top of him, with the desire to kiss every inch of him.   
Corbin returned the affection, whilst running his hands through her thick hair.   
Kalania only briefly opened her eyes to check if he was enjoying her kisses. He didn’t seem to relent and he didn’t want to rush either; savouring the softness of her lips.   
‘Do you want me to stop?’ Kalania whispered after quite some time. She wasn’t sure if she could stop herself and fight back her desire, but she had respect for Corbin, which came with loving him.   
‘This might be our only night together,’ he said slowly and held her tighter.   
She could almost burst with emotion. There was nothing that Kalania wanted more than for the night to last forever.   
‘I don’t know how long I will be gone for,’ Corbin continued breathlessly. ‘We’re going to get Xirelia back.’  
‘Johan did outline your task… that’s what the necklace was needed for?’  
‘Yeah.’  
‘Then I’m glad that you’ll be wearing it.’  
‘I’ll make sure to return it. When I come back to you,’ he said ever so faintly.   
Kalania looked down at him, her hair tickling his face. There was something new in his steel coloured eyes; something definite and eternal. Adoration.   
‘But you hate the sea,’ she stated. The look he was now giving her melted her completely, and it was now extremely difficult for her to stop herself from removing the rest of his clothes.  
‘I can stay here. The distance won’t stop me loving you,’ Corbin said meekly. Meek enough to show that he wasn’t lying, like a lot of men did when they claimed to love her.  
It was the only thing that Kalania needed to hear. To hear it from him, actually mattered. She had almost forgotten to breathe after finally being told that. As if breathing mattered now anyway – she was so happy, so content to finally be loved by the only man she cared about – she would be quite happy to die in his arms right then. She grinned broadly and showered Corbin with more kisses. There was no holding the captain back now, and there was no way in hell that he was going to stop her.   
‘That was better than last time,’ she purred alluringly, after finally rolling off his narrow body.  
‘Probably because I was terrified last time. You might not know this, but you’re a very intimidating woman,’ Corbin chuckled, stroking Kalania’s hair once she had returned her head onto his boiling hot chest.  
‘Hmm, that is news to me,’ she played along.   
Corbin soon fell asleep, rightly exhausted by the ship captain.  
Kalania lay awake for a little bit longer, listening to his soft breathing. She fantasised about having a future with him; what their children would look like if they ever had any. She could carry on having adventures at sea and Corbin could stay on land; a faithful house husband. A normal life. She slipped into a blissful slumber before she knew it. 

***

Lara Haylin held on fiercely to her brother’s arm as The Envy sailed away from the small island the next morning. She’d always care about her family; that was rooted deep within her. But having Corbin and Arkael leave felt dreadful. There was no knowing when they would return and she missed them instantly.  
Lara wiped tears from her useless eyes with her free hand and allowed Elijah to escort her back into the Glade Spire, away from the cold wind.   
Today would continue as before and she would be glad for the distraction of her lesson with Roshan. Although, she couldn’t stop her mind from wandering back to last night. It seemed like hours had passed as Arkael silently held a hand to her forehead, and eventually she had seen the white light again. The pure black had ignited into pure white and for a split second, she had thought that her sight had come back. But then it went away, and so did Arkael’s touch.  
His test had ended and he had seemed disappointed when she had said no voice had called out for this time. He had then muttered something about being tired and had led her to her room for the night.  
‘Lara, you’re not clearing your mind, Lara,’ Roshan interrupted her daydreaming with is stone cold voice.  
‘How do you know?’   
‘You were frowning, Lara.’   
She sighed and folded her hands on the small table. Roshan sat across from her, surrounded by books within the second library. He’d already spent the morning reading from one of the many books. A history book about how the lands were made, how Lenos the goddess of nature created all the animals and plants of the wild. Knowledge, knowledge and then more knowledge. Then she was made to question that knowledge, because being sceptical was always good. Philosophy was always important. The meditation always came afterwards, to clear the mind and digest the day’s lesson.  
Alois was a god of knowledge and time; a cunning god. That was why it made sense for the High Priestess to never age – she had cheated death. That was proof enough for many followers to believe that Alois was real.   
Unlike other gods, the tradition was not to worship or give offerings to the temples, but to instead digest all knowledge. An elder Alois priest or priestess would have the ability to know everything and see through all lies. That was what made them so deadly at court.   
That was what made Roshan’s game so deadly.   
Everything had been going to plan, he was sure that he had fixed everything. So sure that he had moved all other competition aside, to finally be chosen as a predecessor when Celia Reinwood’s work was done. He hadn’t expected Lara to ruin everything. Some things just can’t be changed.   
Roshan’s face remained still even as the contempt bubbled inside him. Not that keeping a straight face mattered in front of a blind woman – it was just a force of habit now. Beaten into him within such a short amount of time.   
Even his hands remained concealed within the baggy sleeves of his navy robes, unnecessarily hiding his missing ring fingers from the blind woman. In fact, as Roshan thought about it, he was hiding his wounds from himself – the constant reminder of his past life.   
He’d continue to act cold and grumpy, and he would complain to High Priestess Celia, even though he knew it would have no results. To grin and bear it, or to show his calm, calculating scheming would be more suspicious. He would continue to tease Lara, even if it was undeserved. 

***

The journey back to Claynore was over all too quickly.   
There had been time for a few games of chess inside Kalania’s cabin and share a sumptuous meal with her, and then it was almost time to drop the anchor.   
‘I should have set a slower pace,’ Kalania said regretfully. She stood eyelevel with Corbin, holding onto the lucky silver medallion around his skinny neck.   
‘I just have this one last thing to do for Arkael,’ he sounded just as regretful.  
‘I wish you didn’t have to go,’ she let the silver fall from her hand to caress his fingers instead. ‘But I know you have to. You’re something special, Corbin. Greed or gain doesn’t fuel you; you just follow your heart. I wish I could be more like that.’  
‘I wish I was more motivated to become something great, like you are.’  
‘Gods damn it,’ Kalania’s eyes burned and she looked up to the wooden ceiling of her cabin. She’d trained herself long ago to never show weakness, to never cry. She’d never been struck with tears of happiness before though.   
Corbin smiled brightly and held her close. Time didn’t seem to matter in that moment, nor did the rocking of the ship.  
‘I have to set us into port,’ Kalania uttered after some time.  
Corbin followed her out of her cabin and Vega jumped off the end of Kalania’s bed to join them, and they soon found Arkael waiting on the top deck.  
‘I thought I’d never see you again,’ Arkael muttered dryly.  
‘You say that like it’s a bad thing,’ Corbin returned with an impish grin.  
‘I hate you,’ he said in an almost endearing way before turning back to the railings of the ship. The sky was grey, as it always was above Claynore. The storm that was always just kept at bay.   
Captain Kalania Salvodar barked orders from the top of her deck, commanding the sails to be brought in, for the ship to be slowed. She knew these waters well, knew that if they went any further they would run aground.   
If Celia had been trustworthy, the large Imperial fleet on the port side of her ship would now recognise The Envy’s sails to be allies. She would rule the sea and no one would stop her. All she had to do was find the treasure hidden within Barass and split it with the High Priestess of Alois.  
Sensing the slowing pace of the ship, Johan Aldus finally emerged from the underneath compartments. He was wrapped in a blood red cloak, his face hidden, his hands gloved. Even in the cloudy shores of Claynore he couldn’t stand the dull daylight. His skin would boil, he could barely see and his body felt weak in the daytime. Come night time that would be a different story.  
Corbin had acquired a new cloak from the Glade Spire before they had departed. He wore the navy woollen cloak over his tan long coat, with his bow and quiver on top of it all. All he had was his trusty white recurve bow and many knives – he wasn’t sure how he was going to help Arkael, but he knew that he had to try. Corbin would always watch Arkael’s back like a hawk.  
The anchor dropped and the captain stood proudly by the wheel of her ship as her crew lowered a rowing boat into the shallower waters. The tide was already getting low on the shores of Claynore.   
Johan assured that his companions were on the little boat before he waved to the captain and descended the rope ladders.   
Corbin never took his eyes off Kalania as two of her crew members began to row them steadily away from The Envy.  
Captain Kalania kept a steely expression. She wouldn’t let her crew see her stumble or falter, even if she had a feeling of dread growing in her gut. It was surreal to watch the only person she truly loved move further and further away. As if the feeling of happiness would only be short lived and temporary. It was escaping her, and that terrified her. What if I never feel this complete again?   
‘Watch the ship, Mr Cano,’ she glanced over her shoulder at her helmsman, her voice sounding calmer than she felt.  
He nodded his bearded head with understanding. He’d known his captain to do crazier things than abandon ship, and that’s why he respected her. She never did anything logical or boring, and that’s why her enemies could never predict her moves.   
She just as calmly stepped onto the railings of her ship and dived into the grey sea water. The growing feeling of dread was replaced by the icy chill of the water, but she cut through it with ease. She wasn’t sure if Corbin had seen her jump, surely her bright hair would have been the only flash of colour in this world of grey.   
Kalania made it to the dark grey shore several minutes after the rowing boat had made it to ground and awaited her arrival. Mermaids were believed to be a fictional myth, but as Kalania stepped out of the sea, the five men watched in awe as the beautiful, strong captain charmed them all.   
She panted and dripped water, but she was back with Corbin. For just a few more moments, she was in the only place that mattered. She pressed her body into him and his narrow arms circled her. Like a dream.   
‘My heart is yours,’ she breathed into his ear. Then they kissed passionately for a long time.   
Long enough for Arkael to roll his eyes. ‘Are you done?’  
Corbin shot him a mischievous smile, tasting the salt of the sea that Kalania had planted on his lips.  
‘Almost,’ Kalania stooped to pull a knife out of her soggy boot and used it to cut off a lock of her dark, wet hair.   
Corbin treasured it immediately, and wished that he had a gift for her as well. He felt dreadful for leaving, even more now. But he had to go with Arkael, and he knew deep down that Arkael would do the same for him if the situation was reversed.   
Johan had waited patiently, and so had Vega. A knowing expression had remained on his hidden face as he watched the two lovers fight against all odds.   
‘Terrible timing, as always, Corbin Balvine,’ Captain Kalania stepped into her rowing boat, her two crew men respectively avoiding her eyes.   
‘All part of the big foolish package,’ he chuckled, watching her leave this time.  
Kalania’s rower’s pushed the little boat into the water and quickly began to row into the current. She remained standing, her eyes fixed on the man she loved.   
‘Let’s focus on keeping you alive, hmm?’ Johan uttered with mild amusement, and patted Corbin’s shoulder.   
‘You’re coming too, are you?’ Arkael raised an eyebrow in the vampire’s direction.   
‘Certainly. Did I forget to mention that?’ he said and a whimsical chortle seemed to emit from his hood. Johan led on, his pace was quick and his cloak swayed with each silent stride of his long legs.   
Arkael’s dark eyebrow only continued to arch as he suspected the Alois priest of some sort of trickery. Why would he willingly help for free? Possibly the only person he could trust in this world now was Corbin. Corbin had proved that he had no reasons to betray anyone; he just wasn’t that sort of person.

Chapter 33 – Dismissing the Illusion 

‘This will be dangerous, Vega,’ Corbin warned, patting the wolf’s furry head.  
It had taken a few hours, and a lot of sneaking, but Johan had finally led the party underground without being detected by the thieves’ guild that ran its base in Aze’s sewers. To say that the guild needed improvements was an understatement, but Aze was a young city and there was a lot more building to do.  
The tunnel ways had been pitch black beneath the city, but Johan had seen perfectly. His dark eyes practically glowed in the darkness. Arkael had also been working on a spell that he had found in a stolen Silverstone library book which allowed him to see in the darkness. Or was it Maiya giving me light? Damn this uncertainty.   
It was only Corbin and Vega who were left in complete blackness, having to use their other senses to navigate the passageways. And the stench was indescribable. Something close to dead bodies, Corbin imagined. Maybe dead bodies were dumped down here. Every city had its dark secrets. Zhander had his dark practices.   
‘When you’ve tracked this city long enough, you notice every small change,’ Johan said quietly, answering a question that had never been asked. How the hell did you find this demonic portal? ‘We’re below the trade district now. This path was never sealed up before.’  
The priest stopped abruptly and Corbin nearly bounced off his broad back.  
‘You can sense the magic here,’ he spoke again, slowly. He unsheathed his red sword to half way and cut into the palm of his hand. The blade was incredibly sharp and he bled instantly, but not for long. Johan put his hand against the sealed up wall before his cut closed up, printing his blood onto the cold brick.  
The wall evaporated, disappearing into dust as if it only ever was an illusion. It most likely was, but an illusion like that; so physical, had to be made from immense power. Arkael was a little bit inspired and very much disgusted – what unspeakable sacrifice had Zhander performed to become that powerful? The bastard must have been down here. He half imagined seeing Zhander on the other side of the illusion and pictured himself throttling the traitor. That brought a sickly sweet smile to Arkael’s face. No, he wouldn’t throttle him to death, only bring him close to it, and then…  
‘Are you coming?’ Corbin wondered, awaiting the sound of Arkael’s footsteps and his shallow breath on the back of his neck.   
Johan entered the secret room, his body low in a fighting stance, a hand on the hilt of his blade. He turned his head slightly to his companions, and his eyes glowed red.   
Corbin almost recoiled at the sight of the predatory, glowing gaze, until he realised that it was Johan. His eyes hadn’t done that earlier, had they?   
Then the smell intensified as Corbin stepped blindly into the room fully. It was so bad that images of rotting flesh came into his mind and he began to retch.   
Vega moved more carefully as well, keeping close to Corbin’s side.   
‘Gods, what’s that smell?’ Corbin grimaced, holding his cloak up to his face.  
‘Probably something to do with the chopped up body parts in the corner of the room,’ Arkael said plainly.   
‘You’re joking!’  
He wasn’t. Arkael stood fixated on the pile of limbs and bones, blood soaking the walls and floor. Blood magic at its darkest, perhaps. Zhander experimenting, maybe.  
Corbin really did vomit then.   
‘There was a lot of poverty and unemployment when Aze didn’t need so many builders, stone and woodcutters anymore. Wouldn’t have been hard for him to find poor souls who wouldn’t be missed,’ Johan uttered, answering another unspoken question. He was clearly unfazed by all the death. He’d seen enough of it.  
‘You’d know this from experience?’ Arkael raised his eyebrow again.  
Johan chortled darkly. ‘I only eat animals.’  
‘What if there aren’t any animals, where we’re going?’  
‘Then I’ll eat you first,’ he joked. The vampire relaxed his stance and moved across the room to the triangular configuration of blue-purple, cosmic looking stones.   
I wonder what we will eat down there, Corbin thought and his stomach only churned more so.  
‘Here it is. I haven’t risked touching this thing,’ Johan gestured to the demonic ritual.  
Arkael stepped forwards. ‘Don’t you have an enchanted necklace?’  
He smirked in the darkness. ‘Nothing will possess my body. It’s not really a living thing anymore.’  
Arkael watched him suspiciously before crouching down to the triangular formation and the splattered blood stains. What was Zhander trying to achieve?   
‘I think the dark wizard was sacrificing people here to open the portal,’ Johan explained.   
Arkael already knew that much. ‘Good job we have you here then.’  
‘Indeed,’ he nodded and began sacrificing gallons of blood. Enough blood to kill a normal person, Johan stood over the formation, dripping blood from both his arms.  
The triangle drawn in blood began to glow red like hot metal and the three demonic stones emitted light too. Corbin could see clearly now, and he made sure to turn his back on the pile of rotting flesh in the corner.   
‘Do you think Zhander has been through there?’ he asked nervously.  
‘I don’t even know if it’s possible,’ Arkael looked down at the glowing portal. It looked alive, rippling with red light.  
‘Could be suicide.’  
Arkael didn’t care anymore.  
‘I’ll go first,’ Johan offered, still spilling blood into the hungry portal.  
‘This is it,’ Corbin locked eyes with his companion. He’d never really dared to do that before. He’d also always thought that Arkael had blue eyes, but they were actually silver like moonlight.   
‘No,’ Arkael rumbled in a low voice. He read Corbin’s body language as he closed in for something far more daring. ‘Don’t you hug me, I’m warning you –’  
‘I’m gonna give you a hug before we both die.’  
‘You are not.’  
‘I am,’ Corbin grinned fiendishly, still closing in.  
‘Don’t you dare touch me,’ Arkael begrudgingly stood still as the half-elf embraced him, patting his back fondly.   
‘See, not so bad?’   
‘Never… do that again,’ he warned, but a flicker of playful mockery glinted in his unusual eyes.  
Corbin laughed; it might be his last laugh. ‘You never cease to amuse me.’  
‘We’ll have to make this quick,’ Johan reminded. He let enough of his blood spill to keep the portal open without him, before stepping into the triangle. His body disappeared through the floor as if he had just walked into a very deep puddle.   
‘Well,’ Corbin gulped, a jolt of fear hitting his heart. ‘It’s a two way portal.’ He looked to his wolf companion and thought it would be better for her to guard the portal. But how long will this take?   
‘It’s, erm, safe,’ Johan’s voice called through the burning portal. For once he didn’t sound amused or cool. He sounded confused. ‘Perhaps you should just leave this task for me though.’  
Arkael shook his head and practically ran into the fiery portal. His curiosity overpowered his fear.  
Corbin swore loudly before rushing in afterwards without another heartbeat of hesitation. Vega was too loyal not to follow him.  
It was like jumping off a rooftop, Corbin told himself. His stomach rose to his throat and then he landed in a crouch before he knew it. His feet met glossy jet black stone – obsidian – and he looked up at Johan first.   
The priest looked different. His skin paler than before, like a corpse without blood. However, his eyes were the colour of blood and his teeth razor sharp like a shark.  
Arkael looked slightly different as well. His eyes glowed white and he somehow looked even taller than before. He was staring past Corbin with a bewildered expression on his chiselled face.  
It was enough to make Corbin cringe and not want to turn around. Was there an army of demons behind him? Had he changed as well? Sprouted horns and a tail?  
Corbin turned on the spot, still crouching on the obsidian that seemed to go on for miles. Fire blazed around them, replacing a clouded sky with glowing lava.   
A woman sat with her legs splayed out, looking at her pale hands, turning them over repeatedly. The yellow dye had faded in her slashed gown, auburn hair tumbling over her face and shoulders, and she eventually peered up at Corbin with one sapphire blue eye.  
‘V-Vega?’ he stuttered.  
The woman nodded excitedly.  
‘You’re not a wolf?’ Corbin’s words were strained.  
‘Guar,’ Johan nodded, checking his own deathly pale hands. ‘Werewolf. I thought we had kept them all out.’  
Corbin didn’t like his tone. ‘Don’t you dare touch her.’  
Vega looked afraid and withdrew into herself. ‘Goheno,’ she uttered sadly.  
Only Corbin recognised the elvish word for sorry. He offered a hand to help her onto her feet and reassured his friend that everything was all right in the same ancient tongue.  
‘I don’t think it’s wise to hang around here,’ Arkael said hurriedly. He’d never met a werewolf before but now wasn’t the time to study one.  
Corbin ignored him. He was too shocked to remember the situation they were in. ‘What’s your name?’ he asked in elvish.  
‘…Vega.’  
‘I gave you that name. Are you a high elf?’  
‘I… don’t remember,’ she wobbled on her feet but Corbin took her arm to balance her. She’d been walking on all fours for so long. She wasn’t very tall for a high elf, and her ears. Her wolf ears had been torn.   
Vega’s hair covered most of her old scars. She must have once been a beautiful elf, but there was no hiding the long white marks on the right side of her face and her closed up eye.   
Someone had mutilated her purposely. Disfigured her elven heritage. ‘Who did this to you?’ Corbin was overwhelmed with sympathy.  
Vega only shook her head. ‘Not understand.’  
He couldn’t help but embrace her, and that felt familiar to Vega. She leant her weight into him and poked her narrow nose into his ear. His smell only meant one thing, ‘Nilde.’  
Corbin chuckled as her nose tickled and she used the elvish word for friend.   
‘Hmm,’ Johan kept a weary eye on the guar as he walked on the glassy black rock. ‘Let’s find Xirelia, shall we?’  
‘That’s why we’re here,’ Arkael agreed through clenched teeth.   
‘Where do we start?’ Corbin wondered, looking out at the empty expanse of obsidian.  
Vega held onto his arm, still getting used to a pair of legs. Her head darted around, her one good eye scanning for danger. Her nose sniffing the stale air out of habit.

***

Corbin couldn’t stop looking at Vega.  
She was steadily getting better at walking and every time he smiled at her, her long face lit up. If she still had a tail, she’d be wagging it.   
Her instincts still felt the same. Follow Corbin for food. Protect Corbin for food. Obey commands for food.   
Vega felt useless in this form. She was slow and small, her teeth not at all sharp. Her skin was cold and she no longer had fur to cover the scars on her arms, back and legs. She had forgotten about them when she scampered around on four legs, felt warm grass under her paws. She didn’t remember where they had come from or when, or what her name was, or even what she really was. She had just been a wolf – all instinct and wild – eager to run with the first pack that would accept her. Corbin was the first alpha not to growl at her or bite her.  
Arkael led on, his eyes still shinning like a pair of stars. It seemed as though they had been walking for days and nothing around them had changed. Look down; see obsidian. Look up; see only lava.  
Thankfully there weren’t any demons about.  
‘I wonder how big this place is,’ Corbin uttered after some time.  
Johan’s glowing red eyes scanned absolutely everything, even though the trail was empty. Like walking in circles.   
They were in a place that wasn’t meant to be traversed by mortals. Johan had always believed in the Divine Five, even if the gods had never done anything for him. Even if the city he had been born into had deserted those gods to follow Krotan and Zula, gods amongst mortals.  
Gardoz was the god of war and death. Perhaps they walked his realm now. As Johan thought this he felt a wave of profound understanding wash over him but he didn’t mention it aloud. He had cheated Gardoz already, and being here must look like an insult. But where did all the demons come from?   
Souls that didn’t make it to eternal bliss, the holy books of Viscar would say, the Father of the gods. Johan dreaded the idea of bumping into his family here…   
His cousin Harlan had been a bit of a pest and never prefect, but there had been nothing evil about him. His mother had seemed ordinary, but then they never really had talked much. Johan had always been busy training in the garden, at a time when he had never been clever, rich or charismatic.   
And his sisters… Sena and Paula. They had been innocent and so full of life and still till this day Johan couldn’t work out why someone would want to kill them. His father had been a secretive man, had hired a secret family assassin that had bled their fortune dry. Was he evil enough to be turned into a demon?  
Johan shook his head as his feet followed the warlock in front of him. But there had been Tera Salvodar as well. He’d been married to her for less than a week before their new home fell down on top of her. But that had been her own fault… she hadn’t believed in the Divine Five, so maybe she was here.   
There were things that were beyond his understanding, and Johan had accepted that. He had spoken to the ghost of High Priest Marik Hölzer and had been reassured that his family were now at peace and proud of him. Are they still proud of me now?   
Was it coincidence or was it fate that he was walking along side Marik’s nephew now?   
Johan looked back up but found that he was now walking alone. He stopped abruptly. The realm of black stone and fire disappeared around him and he was standing on a muddy battlefield. He instantly cast an arm over his eyes but the sunlight didn’t burn him. And that’s how he knew it was an illusion.   
But still, he was forced to relive his dark memories, which were realer than anything. He was staring down at his cousin; his best friend, Harlan Bayo, riddled with arrows, dried blood crusting on his lips. Those arrows were meant for me.   
Johan was now kneeling in the hallway of his home, watching the life slip from his father’s eyes. A woman with fiery red hair observing from the end of the hallway.   
It’s not real. It’s not real. He repeated it until he screamed it. ‘It’s not real!’   
The surroundings around him changed again into a dilapidated fishing hut.   
Celia Reinwood stood in front of him, her navy robes stained with something dark. Her white hair glittering. ‘I told you not to come here,’ her voice sounded perfect, but Johan knew that it wasn’t her. ‘You’re a monster.’  
Johan turned on his heel and stomped away from the teasing illusion.   
Celia only appeared in front of him again. This time they stood in the stone, circular entry room of the Glade Spire.  
‘I should have let Aryn kill you.’  
‘I’m warning you, demon,’ Johan snarled, a hand on the hilt of his crimson sword.  
‘You murdered those families, like an animal,’ the splitting image of Celia continued to taunt.  
‘And what did I tell you?’ he asked in a threatening hiss.  
‘You enjoyed it.’  
‘Not as much as I’m going to enjoy bathing in the blood of the wizard who summoned you,’ Johan hissed once more before stalking off menacingly, breaking the illusion of the Spire. He broke into a run – he had to get away from the maddening images.  
‘Running away, as always, Viscount?’ Celia’s voice taunted from the shadows of the maze-like stone labyrinth of his nightmares.  
He ran endlessly, for what felt like forever.

Chapter 34 - Darker than Dark

Corbin lost sight of his companions, but he couldn’t tell when it had happened. He frowned as he tried to retrace his steps, but his sense of time didn’t seem to make sense anymore. Like waking up in the middle of a dream and wondering how he got to be here – standing in a room of mirrors.   
How much time had gone by? Where had Vega gone?  
He looked down at his arm, he thought Vega had been holding onto it. ‘Vega? Vega?’ he called out with no success. His voice only bounced around the hexagon of mirrors.   
The shining mirrors rippled like puddles and Corbin was forced to look at the six images of himself. Is that really me?   
Corbin’s reflection wore only black. His hair was covered by a black hood and a thieves’ mask covered the lower half of his face. His skin was so pale that it appeared grey and lifeless. His eyes were just as lifeless; eerily milky and white. A black bow rested on his back beside a quiver of three arrows and he held a thin, long sword in his hand. Blood dripped from the end of the sharp steel and Corbin immediately dropped the weapon and recoiled from the dark reflection.  
The reflection reached out for him, clawing the air slowly.   
Where am I? Corbin tried to remember, but it felt like so much time had passed since he had found the room of mirrors. I was here with Arkael… where is he?  
‘Thief,’ the dark doppelganger began to speak in elvish, slowly and relentlessly stepping out of the mirror. ‘Bastard. Half-breed. Murderer. Deserter.’  
‘You missed fool off your list,’ Corbin teased boisterously, not letting the demon get inside his head. He didn’t bother to reply in elvish.   
The mirrors melted away, turning the floor into a rippling reflection. The darker version of himself lowered the mask and smirked wickedly, still those horrible eyes boring into him.  
‘We could be so much more,’ it began to bargain, clenching it’s partially gloved hand. ‘The greatest King to ever live. All will fear Menos.’  
‘I don’t want that.’  
‘Menos needs a ruler like us. Remember who we are, Emirhan.’  
Corbin continued to recoil, shaking his head. He struggled to fight the darker side of him; the side that wanted to watch his enemies burn. The side of him that had relished in killing Captain Varnette.   
‘And Kalania will be our ruthless Queen.’  
‘No!’  
The grey skinned doppelganger frowned angrily, growling sinisterly. ‘That is the only reason why Kalania wants us, she wants to be crowned.’   
‘Leave her out of this,’ Corbin pulled the bow from his back and was glad to see that it was back to normal; carved from white oak.  
His enemy, himself, laughed cruelly and rushed forwards, brandishing the long blade.   
Corbin aimed an arrow at his enemies’ face, but it only flew right through. He was now pinned down by the sharp sword. Corbin ducked a vicious swipe of it but the doppelganger was fast. As fast as he was.  
He dodged again but a black booted foot found his gut and pushed him back.  
Corbin managed to keep his footing though, and slid slightly across the reflective floor. He drew the long, blackened dagger from his belt and parried another violent swing of the dark demon’s blade.   
The doppelganger feinted his next attack, but Corbin expected the move. Metal met metal, ringing in the long, empty space.   
His enemy hissed and split into six images again; six grotesque versions of himself. Corbin couldn’t block six attacks at once, though he tried. He span in a neat circle, batting away three of the lunges with his dagger. The other three pierced his chest.   
Corbin gasped as the searing pain washed over him and he fell to his knees.   
The ghastly mirror of himself returned to one instead of six and stood over him, smiling with self satisfaction, blood dripping from the long sword.   
Corbin fell on his back, closing his eyes slowly. He felt himself moving, in someone else’s body. He became a passenger within the Dark Prince’s body. No, it was his body! Corbin fought to move but he couldn’t, he could only watch.   
He was forced to watch through the eyes of his evil double as he destroyed everything and everyone he cared about. Lara ran through with the same sword. She’d already been forced to watch Corbin kill her whole family.   
It was a nightmare that he couldn’t wake up from, couldn’t control. He was stuck inside the Dark Prince, whose mission it was to destroy everyone Corbin cared about on its path to power.   
‘Your friends make you weak,’ it growled horribly, still taunting him in elvish.  
The scene changed to the large log cabin he had grown up in. ‘No,’ Corbin begged until he screamed, but he was only a voice inside a demon who had stolen his skin. ‘No!’  
Corbin was forced to watch again through the Dark Prince’s eyes as it embraced his father and plunged a dagger in his back. The look of surprise on Corbin’s father’s face was crippling.   
His mother slid into the room, screaming wildly, cradling her bleeding lover. Corbin watched his own hand come down, plunging the dagger into his mother’s throat.   
‘Your family hold you back.’  
He was standing on The Envy now, not quite sure if he was the real Corbin or imaginary. Am I not dead?   
Kalania beckoned him into her cabin, smiling hungrily.   
‘Run, Kalania! Run, it isn’t me!’ Corbin tried to yell, but he didn’t exist within this nightmare.   
There was something not quite right about her cabin, the lines of all her expensive furniture blurred like a bad memory. The nightmare continued to play out regardless and whether or not Corbin believed it anymore.   
Arkael was bound and gagged on the floor of Kalania’s cabin. She handed the Dark Prince one of her ornate daggers to finish the job.   
‘Kalania would never join you,’ Corbin spat, fighting to see through the dark illusion. ‘She’d see right through you!’  
Arkael’s blood soon washed over the golden rug, travelling towards Vega’s lifeless body. She was a wolf, and then she was an elf, then a wolf again. The nightmare couldn’t quite decide what to stop on.   
The cycle only began again, over and over again. First Corbin’s friends died, second his family, and finally Kalania helped him betray his companions.   
He was forced to watch the scenes on repeat. It was so dark and twisted that it was absurd, and Corbin couldn’t help but cackle like a mad man. Would it ever stop?   
‘Kill me, not them!’ he began to beg after what felt like an eternity.   
After seeing his mother murdered for the hundredth time, Corbin barely had any fight left in him at all. 

***

When Arkael found Corbin lying on the floor, he was twitching and raving like a mad man. ‘Not them, me… kill me instead… not them…’  
‘Hey,’ Arkael slapped his face lightly to see if he would wake up. ‘Corbin?’  
He stirred slightly, swatting Arkael’s hand away feebly.   
The warlock’s eyes continued to glow like starlight as he crouched over his friend. ‘Wake up.’  
Corbin was instantly alert. He gasped loudly as if he had been swimming underwater and scrabbled away from Arkael. ‘Get away from me, he’ll kill you!’  
‘Who will?’ he straightened up calmly.  
‘The…’ Corbin looked around wildly. He was surrounded by obsidian and fire again. ‘He’s gone…’  
‘You saw illusions as well?’   
Corbin nodded, taking a gulp of air. Was this real now?   
‘There’s a demon hiding here. I suspect it’s working for Zhander.’  
‘You came back for me?’  
Arkael looked slightly puzzled, his eyes shining through his companion. ‘I did.’  
‘I knew you cared.’  
‘Don’t ruin it,’ he smirked. ‘Come on. The quicker we find Xirelia, the quicker we can leave this place.’   
Corbin checked that he had all his weapons before rushing to his buddies’ side. ‘What did you see?’  
‘I’d rather not say.’  
‘Did you have a doppelganger too?’  
‘What? No.’  
Corbin bit his lip anxiously. ‘He took my body and murdered everyone I cared about.’  
‘You’re still wearing that silver medallion, I hope?’ Arkael walked in long strides, his teal coloured sashes flowing out behind him. His glowing eyes watched the area for things that only he could see. Gnarled trees, sharp winged bats, and many other dark moving shadows.  
Corbin jingled the chain around his neck. ‘Maybe mine is broken.’   
‘If the demon has possessed anyone, it would be Vega.’  
‘Gods damn it.’  
Arkael continued to walk, hoping that he would eventually see something else besides this obsidian path. ‘I saw Xirelia and Zhander, but you must have already guessed that.’ He eventually opened up.  
‘I suppose they were betraying you in some horrific way?’  
Arkael nodded slowly. ‘I broke out of it pretty quickly though.’  
Corbin half-smiled and added playfully. ‘Was I not in your nightmare?’  
‘What do you mean?’ he returned with a callous tongue. ‘I have to put up with you on a daily basis, that is my nightmare.’  
‘Hah-hah, good one.’

Chapter 35 – Alora and The Dragon

Celia Reinwood left the courtroom, holding her skirt and robes up with a dainty hand as she descended the grand palace steps. She knew he was there, following her silently. He’d been watching her for the entirety of the meeting as she advised the witless Emperor. Witless, but he meant well.   
‘Yes? Can I help you, Aryn?’ Celia stopped halfway down the stairs to meet her stalker. If she went any further she would be in the Great Hall and she would have to cover her skin from the light that drew through its large windows.  
The small llichivar lowered his bronze mask. He always hid his sharp featured face at court, away from prying eyes – he had to – he should be a slave, sent away from the empire for looking different. Aryn’s skills made him an exception, and he would always be in debt to Celia Reinwood for persuading the royal family to make use of him. ‘Have you found him yet?’  
‘Him?’ she said coyly, spreading her arms out across the mahogany banister. Her navy robes fit her well, emphasising every curve of her feminine body. Her snow white hair cascaded down her left shoulder and she set her dark eyed gaze upon the unassuming creature.  
‘Zhander Dracken,’ he hissed quietly.  
‘We’re working on that. Why? What do you expect to do when you find him?’  
‘Kill him,’ Aryn stated plainly.  
‘Very diplomatic of you,’ Celia’s eyes gleamed with amusement.   
The llichivar stood unnervingly still, like a predator watching prey, but his magnificent aqua eyes were focused on a far away point, past the High Priestess’ head. ‘And you think you can trust the other one?’  
‘Arkael? He’s still young,’ Celia subtly stretched out her back and began to fit lacy black gloves over her hands. ‘And we have a common enemy.’  
‘What happens when that enemy is gone?’ he questioned with more urgency.  
‘Well, I know that you of all people can’t kill him,’ she smiled easily and returned to the staircase. ‘We leave him alone, that’s what happens. And then we pray.’  
Aryn remained still, his talon tipped toes curling around the middle most step.   
‘You and I are traditionalists, Aryn,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘That’s how I know I can trust you.’  
He watched her walk away, flexing and unflexing his sharp clawed fingers. Aryn wondered what that meant; traditionalists. Yes, he was stuck in old ways, and he knew he would always be like that. He’d always hear Jeena’s piano melodies in his mind and see Zaya, not even old enough to walk yet. He’d thought that Emperor Cassin had been the threat, when it had really been those mysterious twins from across the far sea, looking for power, no matter the costs. No matter if a whole nation would fall.  
His blades had met with Emperor Cassin, but that hadn’t fixed all the cruelty that he had disposed upon Jeena.   
His blades had found Krotan and Zula too, but that hadn’t brought Jeena or Zaya back to life. It hadn’t done anything. Aryn still felt nothing.  
All he could do was wonder this young palace like a ghost, like a Wraith. No matter how hard he tried, he was still cursed, never able to join his family. Too proud, too afraid, to let a wizard ever get close to him again; he’d probably always remain cursed.   
So he had settled for protecting Jeena’s sister and niece and nephew instead. If they actually knew who he was, they had never spoken it aloud. He’d watch them all, the whole bloodline for eternity if he had to – that would be his repentance – even if Princess Quinn looked so much like his lost wife.  
Maybe that’s what the High Priestess had meant by traditionalists. 

***

Celia returned to the Glade Spire at noon, where she would remain for the rest of her weekend.   
Roshan was waiting for her, a glass of wine already poured out for her on the side table.   
‘Ah, thank you Roshan,’ she lowered her hood and began removing her lace gloves.  
‘Pleasant trip, ma’am?’   
‘Pleasantly short,’ she smiled and took up the side seat across from the young priest. She didn’t bother to mention how every moment apart from Johan was agony, how terribly she missed him. She would not let it be her weakness. ‘What can I do for you, Roshan?’  
He rubbed his eye with the sleeve of his navy robe. He often did this when he held back brash words and questionable thoughts – Celia had noticed.   
‘Well, spit it out?’ she encouraged, taking a sip of her dark wine.   
‘I beg that you reconsider your offer to Lara.’  
‘You knew you’d always have to be a teacher,’ Celia set the wine glass back down slowly. She gave her priest a deadly, long stare.   
‘You’ve given me a blind nobleborn with no ambitions,’ he was trying not to seethe, rubbing that left eye of his again.   
The High Priestess went as straight as a board. ‘That is why we must help her. Give her ambitions, give her vision. Lara is an empty cup to be filled, so that she can make the world a better place. Do you have any idea who her father is?’   
‘Some noble ponce, I suspect?’  
Celia latticed her fingers together and gave a long sigh. ‘This why you weren’t ready yet. You’re still too prejudice, Roshan.’   
‘Can you blame me?’ the tall priest jumped out of his chair. ‘I’ve worked hard to get where I am now. I deserve this! This, which you’d freely give to someone who has no interest in Alois or politics.’   
‘Have you given her a chance?’ Celia raised a pale eyebrow. ‘If you just tried talking to Lara, you’d see what I see in her.’

***

Lara was early for lesson.   
That was a change.   
Her brother had guided her up to the library about a quarter of an hour ago and she had sat at the table, patiently waiting for Roshan’s one to one study session.   
‘I heard you talking about me last night,’ Lara began as she sensed her mentor travelling across the library.  
He stopped dead in his tracks. Good, he wanted to say, but he settled for rubbing his eye instead. ‘Eavesdropping, were you?’  
Lara shrugged. ‘I rely on my ears now. You were right though, about what you said.’  
Roshan glanced around at the books and then at her, her pretty little face showing no signs of anger. She only stared blankly ahead. ‘I don’t really know what I’m doing here,’ she said quietly. ‘I’d rather be running rooftops and stealing coin purses, but all those things are impossible to me now.’  
Roshan still didn’t dare to move.  
‘So what I mean to say is that I appreciate what you’re doing for me. It must be hard. I hate being anyone’s burden, and I hate eating up your time,’ she said sincerely, tilting her chin up and smiling sweetly. ‘But I really am trying my hardest.’  
Then he smiled faintly. As he always did when the déjà vu hit him, as if he had been waiting a life time to hear those words. He smiled because the world was playing a cruel joke on him. Year after year, the same running joke. Roshan finally moved to the tall bookshelf at the back of the room and spoke through his twisted smile. ‘I thought about carrying on with geography today, but how about something more interesting? Perhaps a legend instead?’   
‘What kind of legend?’   
‘Have you heard about Alora and The Dragon?’   
‘No,’ Lara shook her head, smiling more so.  
Roshan finally took up his seat. He wouldn’t need to read from a book for this one. He’d heard it a thousand times as a boy – pictured that he was at Alora’s side and anywhere else but sleeping on a clay baked floor.  
Lara listened with eager ears as Roshan told her the tale of Alora. The tale didn’t have an exact date; like all myths and legends, no one really knew where they came from either.   
In Roshan’s telling, Alora had been born into a world full of sand and warring clans. She’d lost her family to fighting and knew that the wars would never end. So Alora took off, not to get revenge and not to remain a victim any longer, but to bravely find a solution. She walked the desert for four weeks, until her lungs dried out and her feet bled sore, until she finally found a watery oasis. At first she thought it was a mirage, but when she drank the cold waters she knew it to be real. As Alora drank, a small creature watched her. And as Alora refreshed her skin and washed her hair, the small creature made itself known to her. It was a young dragon, with shiny scales like pearls and eyes like sapphires.   
Alora was not afraid, as she had seen into the hearts of men, and nothing truly terrified her more than their evil and greed. The Dragon saw an instant friend in Alora and wanted to help her, so the both of them could live in a resolved world. In time The Dragon grew big, but his loyalty always lay with Alora. No one dared to face the pair of them, and with a little more time, Alora managed to bring all the clans together and used their combined resources and skills to make the most magnificent city of its time.   
Roshan liked to stop the story here usually, but Lara insisted he went on. She looked so delighted and pleased to listen to his voice. His retelling was so perfect, that she’d practically forgotten that she was blind, because all she could see was his story.  
‘That can’t be the end of the tale,’ Lara pouted playfully.  
‘It’s not,’ Roshan moved to the side desk that was cut like an oval to fit the circular room and poured them both a glass of water each. ‘Alora married a prince, who turned out to be deceitful, like all men in this tale. He murdered her in her sleep so that he could have The Dragon for himself and conquer new lands.’  
‘That’s terrible!’  
‘Mmm,’ he drank from his glass and returned to their table. ‘The Dragon awoke to a city in mourning. His oldest friend lost. It’s said that The Dragon flew high up to the heavens to retrieve Alora’s soul. The Dragon flew so high, he was never seen again and the sky rained with sapphires – The Dragon’s tears.’  
‘Well…’ Lara smiled appreciatively as the priest pushed a glass of water into her hand, but it was more of a sad smile now.   
‘I like to think that Alora woke back up after that. That’s what happens in my version anyway,’ he broke the silence, taking another sip from his glass.  
‘Did The Dragon not have a name?’   
‘Depends who you ask,’ he replied evasively.   
A smirk tugged at the edges of Lara’s lips. ‘Were they real?’   
‘Dragons? I’d like to think so. Find an elf old enough, maybe they would know.’  
‘Well, I only know Rayla, and I don’t think she’s that old.’  
‘You know an elf?’  
Lara nodded. ‘You met her son, Corbin.’   
Roshan squinted as he remembered. ‘The blond one?’  
‘Yes,’ she chuckled light heartedly.  
‘Is he…’  
‘He’s a half-elf.’  
‘Well, I wish you’d told me that sooner,’ he feigned annoyance – really well.   
‘Sorry.’ Lara looked downcast and swiped her hand without thinking. She heard the scrape of her glass across the wooden table and braced for the sound of broken glass. But it never came.  
Roshan had already stooped to her side of the table and caught her drink, only spilling a small portion of water.   
‘Did you just catch that?’ she said with surprise.  
‘I might have.’ There was that evasive tone again. ‘Wouldn’t it be marvellous if dragons still existed?’   
‘Maybe they do still exist,’ she took the glass from him, their finger’s brushing for a heartbeat of a second.  
Roshan withdrew as quickly as he could, but Lara hadn’t seemed to have noticed his missing finger.   
‘Don’t dragons usually have treasure?’ her eyebrows rose.   
He laughed, a dry ghost of a laugh, but still… it was odd to hear it. Like hearing a dog talk. Lara had known him for a few weeks and didn’t even think him capable of smiling, but then again, she didn’t even know what Roshan looked like. She’d always imagined him to be fat with a hooked beak for a nose and a grimacing mouth. That’s what she pictured from his attitude anyway.   
‘Some dragons, supposedly,’ he said with the same dry amusement.  
‘Better not tell my father that. He wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation of stealing from a dragon.’  
‘Doesn’t your father have enough wealth already?’ he tried to sound cordial.   
‘Is that such a thing?’ she jested playfully.  
‘I… well, I don’t know.’  
Lara grinned, pleased to finally make Roshan speechless. ‘Depends what you do with that wealth, isn’t it? Our family puts a lot of it back into the poorer parts of the city. It’s slow, but Menos is steadily getting better.’  
‘You’re not a daughter of a duke, are you?’  
‘Gods no,’ she chuckled. ‘Why, would that be bad?’  
‘I’m not sure,’ his twisted smile returned as he worked out who Lara Haylin was. The Thieves’ Daughter. Roshan drank the rest of his water, keeping one dark eye on the woman across from him. Now he had two choices; remain cordial, or jump straight in?   
‘So, I have a tale for you,’ she said enticingly, wetting her throat with water before she began. ‘The real story of the Warden of Concento.’  
‘Oh really?’ he raised a thin eyebrow.  
Lara went on, telling Roshan all about Rayla, the true Warden and her shield sister – Megan Haylin. How they had both worked with Marik Hölzer – Celia’s predecessor – to bring an end to Krotan’s and Zula’s rein.   
Roshan sat stiffly in his chair. To think that Krotan and Zula had only been vanquished just over two decades ago, what that meant for magic and the gods, how it had changed everything that people believed in. Were they prophets or were they heretics? Roshan still couldn’t decide.   
‘So, your mother is the General of Menos?’ he asked after some time.  
‘Yes, so you see, neither of my parents were born into nobility and that’s why we’re no a bunch of stuck up snobs. Well, I can’t vouch for Elijah,’ Lara teased.  
Roshan wasn’t sure if he was meant to laugh or not. Her brother did have quite a few violent tendencies. ‘Shall we, ah, get to meditating then?’  
‘Is it that time already?’  
‘It is,’ he nodded and rested his sleeve covered hands in his lap. He needed time to clear his head after listening to Lara’s story. Now that he had finally worked out whom she was, what significance she would play in his life and what chain of events had been set into motion. All of these burdens came from Roshan’s ability to gaze into the future. 

Chapter 36 - Temptation

Corbin Balvine had lost track of how long he had been walking the never ending path with Arkael. Had it been days? Weeks? Months? It felt like months to him.   
Corbin tried to keep jovial. He had to be the jovial one, otherwise he would lose his mind in this empty hell.   
Arkael tolerated his endless rambling and bantering as time stretched unnaturally. But deep down, he was glad to have Corbin with him on this difficult path.  
They had found Johan again, which felt like weeks ago now. The vampire had been running, as though he couldn’t see them and he wouldn’t stop. Only when Arkael had called to him, did Johan snap out of his illusion and see them.   
Finding Vega again hadn’t been so easy. They’d had to battle wave upon wave of demons to get her back and check that she herself wasn’t possessed. She didn’t seem to remember much. Her illusion had consisted of being trapped on her own, which was closer to the reality that she would like to think.   
‘You know, I think I read somewhere that elves have a different after life. I’m not even sure if demons can possess elves, they’re just too pure,’ Corbin said as he wearily followed Arkael.  
‘Always amuses me when you start the sentence with; I think I read…’ snorted the warlock.   
‘What does that mean for you then?’ Johan asked curiously, as he tore into a piece of rationed jerky with his razor sharp teeth.  
Vega couldn’t take her eyes off the dried out meat, almost stumbling and tripping several times as she salivated.   
‘Huh?’ Corbin tilted his head.   
‘Well, you’re a half-elf,’ Johan elaborated.   
‘Oh, um, my soul gets split in two?’   
Arkael’s lip curled slightly. ‘That would be interesting to watch.’   
‘I wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into here,’ Corbin broke the silence that seemed to have spanned a life time. It was odd, how each step felt like he was moving far forward in time.  
‘Do I detect contempt?’ his companion raised a dark eyebrow.   
‘No, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.’  
‘Not even with Kalania?’  
Corbin furrowed his brows. That name felt like a distant memory. ‘Well, that would be nice…’ he poked his own forehead. ‘I’m sorry. Is anyone else losing the plot here, or is it just me?’  
‘It’s just you.’  
‘No-no,’ Johan spoke up. ‘I can’t remember how long it’s been.’  
‘It’s been five days,’ Arkael informed, but then again, he wasn’t even sure. ‘Or maybe it was seven?’  
‘Do you know where you’re going?’ he asked lightly. He rolled his glowing eyes and handed Vega a strip of jerky.  
She gobbled it up in one mouthful.   
‘There’s only one way to go, and I’m pretty sure that we’re heading down,’ Arkael replied as if it was obvious.   
‘Down?’ Corbin questioned. ‘But this is a straight path. Just miles and miles of obsidian.’  
‘No, it’s steadily going down.’  
‘Find the demons, find Xirelia?’   
‘You’ve got it,’ Arkael replied plainly. He’d been holding onto Xirelia’s necklace for some time now, minutes – hours – days. Time stretched longer than it was meant to in this place, but he was still determined to not let her become a distant memory. The dark chain was tangled up his arm and he held the ruby and black diamond encrusted pendant in his palm. He’d see that his one true friend would wear it again.   
‘Arkael,’ a slender figure stood before him. Her hair like obsidian and skin like ivory and her captivating wolf eyes focused on the handsome warlock.  
‘Xirelia?’ he slowed his pace and his companions stopped behind him. If they had seen her too, they hadn’t let themselves be heard.  
‘I must warn you... You can’t trust Johan,’ she said in a very convincing imitation of Xirelia’s husky voice.  
‘A demon pretending to be another demon. That must be new for you,’ Arkael glowered. His eyes shone brightly and the desire demon’s illusion fell away.   
A form of Xirelia no more, the demon hissed and bared sharp, black teeth. Her skin was now red, engraved with glowing orange markings and her hair glowed like gold. The only similarities to Xirelia now were her dark wings and curved horns.   
‘How wise of you,’ the enchanting demon moved like a panther stalking prey. She was dripping in gold. Her hair matched her attire, which only consisted of layers upon layers of golden chains, hanging from her neck and her hips. The rest of her voluptuous body was exposed – always tempting the desires of men. ‘But you’re in my home now.’  
Arkael knew the desire demon’s name without her speaking it – Djin’rah. With her name came enough power for him to consider her offer.   
‘Why hold back your power?’ Djin’rah asked alluringly. ‘I could show you how to fully use it. Use it to break Zhander’s will. You’ve walked with my kind, but Xirelia is only a fraction of a much deeper power. I am Djin’rah and I am over five thousand years old… I could fill you with knowledge that you could only ever dream of without me.’  
‘What would you want in return?’ Arkael stared into her golden eyes, almost ensnared by the offer.  
‘Just you,’ she smiled, her teeth turning from black to gold. Her fingers curling to beckon him close.  
‘I could bring Xirelia back with that power?’  
‘Much more than that,’ she laughed seductively. ‘You could make her mortal, make her your wife.’  
Arkael’s heart burned with desire. A desire he never even knew had been smouldering inside of him. He squeezed the necklace in his hand, imprinting the precious stones into his skin.  
‘You can adorn her in all sorts of finery, not just that one necklace,’ Djin’rah tempted with a curled lip. ‘And you will be seen as a hero for defeating Zhander. You will make the world see that magic is not there to be feared. All you have to do is just submit to me…’

***

Johan had paused behind Arkael before he spotted Celia blocking the path. He was so glad to see her that he didn’t even think that it was illogical that she would appear.   
‘At last, I found you,’ Celia beamed, her whole face lighting up.  
Johan rushed to her. He’d missed those dimples in her beautiful face when she smiled – truly smiled. To see her smile at him was a gift beyond imagining.   
‘I had to find you and tell you,’ her arms were wrapping around him, her aroma intoxicating him. ‘I found a way to restore your family.’  
‘What do you mean?’ Johan stared at her, their noses touching.   
‘I never stopped my research. I knew there had to be more than just what we are.’  
‘You never told me…’  
‘I wanted it to be a surprise, darling,’ she still beamed, her dark eyes burning into him. ‘Come on, they’re waiting for you.’  
Johan stood dumbstruck.   
Celia chuckled and took him by the hand to lead him up a stone staircase. The staircase led to a room, carpeted with a red rug and furnished with golden decorations. Five figures sat around a large mahogany dining table, smiling and beckoning him to join the feast. His family.  
His mother looking humble and pleased to see him. His father giving him a proud nod. His sisters demanding for him to sit between them and teasing him about how pale his skin was now. And his cousin, Harlan Bayo, looking merry and alive. As if the past twenty years had never gone by.   
Celia sat beside him, still holding onto his hand. ‘I did this for you.’  
‘I love you, Celia,’ he choked through his heartache.   
‘I love you as well. Will you… marry me?’  
A tear ran down Johan’s face – he cried because he knew that it wasn’t real – but he allowed himself not to care. ‘Yes.’

***

The demon appeared to Corbin in the form of Kalania. Hair like fire and a passion burning in her blue-grey eyes. They stood on the shores of Claynore as if nothing had changed, as if he had never left.  
‘Are you coming to Barass with me, then?’ she said directly, brushing her hand through his windswept hair.  
‘I’d like to but…’  
‘But you hate the sea, I know,’ she smirked.  
That wasn’t what Corbin was going to say. What was he going to say? Kalania was too beautiful to argue with.  
‘It would just be this one last time. For the greater good. For that cause you always wanted to fight.’   
‘Freeing slaves, you mean?’ Corbin murmured with unsurety.   
‘Yes,’ she nodded her head vigorously, her mane of red hair bouncing wildly. ‘I’ll take your mind off the sailing, my love.’  
‘Heh, chess?’  
Kalania smiled alluringly and led him to her cabin by the lapels on his leather coat. Then nothing else mattered. It was just him and Kalania, their bodies entwining together, her breath on his skin. Her promises of helping innocent lives as she lay on top of him.

***

Only Vega backed away from the figure blocking the path. It looked like a fellow high-elf; a slender eladrin extending a hand to Vega. But she didn’t recognise the elf.  
Maybe it was a stranger. Maybe it was a person she couldn’t remember.   
‘You forgot why you came here, Adamantine,’ the male eladrin spoke to her in the only language that she knew. ‘What you are. Who you are.’  
Vega didn’t want answers. She covered up her torn tipped ears and stumbled back from the slender elf.   
‘I can make you beautiful and normal again, Adamantine.’  
‘Stop,’ she barked. Her pronunciation was bad; she hadn’t needed to move her tongue to talk as a wolf. She was a wolf. That was all she was. A loyal wolf. Vega looked to her friends, finding that they had all lain down before the demon in their path. They almost made a triangle, as they appeared to sleep blissfully around her.   
Stop, stop, stop. I no hurt,’ Vega pleaded and howled, tripping over her own clumsy, stupid feet. ‘I no hurt no one.’  
‘I can fix all the bad. Come with me, Adamantine,’ the long robed elf approached her, smiling kindly, still extending his hand.  
‘Vega,’ she corrected and kept repeating the only given name that was real to her. ‘Vega, Vega, Vega.’ She crawled towards Corbin, which felt more natural to her than walking. She didn’t want the memories and the pain to come back, she just wanted her friends. Vega shook Corbin desperately, eventually lifting her head to the sky of lava to howl sorrowfully like a wolf, aiming to drown out the tempting promises of the smiling eladrin.

***

Corbin awoke to the sound of Vega howling. His blood ran cold and he half expected to find her dead body.   
‘What happened?’ he uttered, forgetting that Vega couldn’t understand. Forgetting where he was. It was easy to forget yourself in a place so void of reality. Corbin felt the glossy obsidian beneath him with the tips of his fingers.   
Vega remained crouched at his side, checking that he wasn’t harmed. She then turned her face back to the pathway, her one bright eye focused on the creature there. The bat-winged demon that was hovering over Arkael.  
Corbin steadily reached for the bow on his back.   
The golden haired demon was preoccupied with draining the life force from the powerful warlock. She hadn’t been able to jump inside his body or possess any of the mortals in her home, but Djin’rah could still drain away their power.   
Her lips were pressed against Arkael’s, taking him for all his power – thirsting for more – she didn’t even see the arrow until it struck her.   
It had been a risky shot not to hit Arkael. Corbin remained on one knee, the other one bent in an archer’s stance, aiming his second arrow.  
Djin’rah screamed, recoiled from her victim and clutched the arrow imbedded in her shoulder. The metal arrow tip stung her like nothing she had felt before. The demon was crafty though, and she quickly turned herself into Kalania’s form. ‘Please, Emirhan,’ she begged weakly, blood dripping from her torn lace jacket.  
‘Wrong name, demon,’ he muttered and loosed his arrow.   
It struck Kalania in the heart, she fell backwards, choking. She lay on her back, hair turning from red to gold.   
Even though Corbin knew that it was a demon, he still had that horrible image burnt into his mind. His arrow seeking her heart.   
Johan rolled onto his feet, looking around slowly at his surroundings.   
Corbin offered a hand to Arkael, who blinked several times until his eyes turned from silver back to glowing white. There was a power in him that no one could take away. His friend helped him up and they shared a look – a sort of unspoken thanks. No words needed to be uttered between them.  
Corbin eventually turned away, collecting his arrows from the demon’s body. ‘Well done, Vega.’  
She’d learnt that one. Some words she knew from the tone that they were spoken in. Vega scrabbled to her feet and nuzzled her face into Corbin’s shoulder. She felt warm and safe next to her companion. She’d follow him anywhere, no matter how scared she felt. 

Chapter 37 – The First Zealot of Gardoz

It had been weeks now. Lara had expected them to return soon, she expected Celia to let her know that they had successfully rescued Xirelia. Any day now…   
‘How are the lessons going?’ Elijah asked conversationally whilst he cleaned up the remains of their breakfast in the kitchen basin.  
‘They’re fine,’ Lara muttered, playing absentmindedly with a piece of her wavy hair. She was lying though. The lessons were more than just fine, they were actually fun. She was getting on well with Roshan now, always trying to make him laugh in her lessons, which was a challenge in itself. She didn’t know why she was lying.  
‘You’re not complaining about Roshan anymore,’ her brother said lightly, setting the last dish down to dry.   
‘I’m used to him now.’  
Elijah hummed suspiciously. He was suspicious because he knew how much Lara had inherited from their father, and it was likely that she had blackmailed Roshan into being nice to her. He wasn’t even sure how – with her sightlessness – but Lara always managed to solve problems, even now.   
Lara held onto her brother’s arm as he took her up the spiralling tower staircase and into the second library. He left her there for her private lesson, not even wanting to lock eyes with Roshan. The man had terrible, cold eyes. They weren’t even killer’s eyes, like the pair that Nesh set upon people and gave them shivers.   
Roshan had eyes that knew too much, as if he knew all your secrets just by looking at you.   
‘See you at dinner,’ Elijah bid, turning on his heel to descend the stairs.  
Roshan was already there, sitting with his hands under the wooden table.  
Lara knew the path to her seat well enough now. ‘Sorry I’m late. I found a dragon in my room.’  
‘Hmm,’ he buzzed with dry amusement. As dry as the desert.  
Lara found the best jokes to tell were simply the most absurd. That was what got Roshan to smile – she hoped, at least.   
‘Your brother doesn’t like me, does he?’ he said quietly.  
‘Don’t take it personally, Elijah doesn’t like anyone,’ she chuckled heartily. ‘You haven’t exactly given him reason to like you though.’  
‘You’re right, I haven’t,’ Roshan sighed faintly. She always spoke straight to the point, like a natural born leader. He understood what High Priestess Celia saw in Lara now. ‘Shall we get to it?’  
‘More legends?’  
Roshan was amused but he didn’t show it. ‘More history first.’   
Lara let out a groan of complaint.  
He opened the old book in front of him carefully, always keeping his hands in his sleeves.   
Lara thought she would die of boredom as Roshan listed off factual events and dates through history. When cities had been built and had fallen, just like their monarchies. When new lands were forged into new countries.   
‘Am I expected to remember all of this?’ she asked wearily after Roshan had closed the book with a loud thud.   
‘You will,’ he reassured calmly. ‘Each day we expand your mind. There’s nothing greater than that, is there?’  
‘I can think of a hundred things greater than that,’ she countered playfully.  
Roshan remained deadly serious. ‘You act so defiant, but you have been chosen for something very special.’  
‘Everyone keeps reminding me. But no one tells me what for.’  
‘There’s no way to explain it.’  
‘You could try,’ she said a little too quickly. ‘Forget it. I don’t want to argue with you. We’ve been getting along so swimmingly.’  
‘Who said we were arguing?’  
‘I’ve clearly offended you in some way,’ she tried to sound carefree, but for some reason her heart was racing. Lara spread her hands out on the table, steadying her breathing.  
Roshan lent back in his chair, exhaling deeply. ‘I like books. It’s no chore for me to read to you,’ he eventually said, breaking the tension in the room.   
‘But you wanted to be the one who was chosen?’ she took an educated guess. The reason why he had been so rude to her from the get go.   
‘It doesn’t matter,’ he shifted in his seat. It didn’t matter. It truly didn’t, because he would still be able to learn everything from her.   
What makes a man like Roshan act so cold? What made him this way? What makes him tick? Lara’s mind filled with a dozen questions, so it wasn’t random for her when she asked, ‘Where are you from, Roshan?’  
He pursed his lips tightly. ‘I’m from the Glade Spire.’  
‘Were you born here?’ she jested.  
‘No.’  
‘I want to imagine what you look like.’  
‘Why?’ he tried to remain calm.  
‘So I can draw you,’ she joked.   
Roshan managed to lean further back in his chair. ‘I was born on a ship, at sea,’ he answered at last.  
‘So you look like a fish, then?’   
He decided to lean forwards this time, playing along with her game. Such a strange woman. ‘Oh yes, most definitely.’   
‘Good, I’m glad we’ve got that cleared up,’ Lara’s face lit up with a jovial smile. She could tell that Roshan was getting uncomfortable, so she didn’t press anymore personal questions. ‘Time for that legend now?’  
‘Indeed,’ he nodded once. He wouldn’t need a book for this one either. ‘Have you heard the one about Theodore, the First Zealot of Gardoz?’   
‘No, I haven’t,’ her face lit up, even with her dead-eyed gaze.  
There was nothing greater than a student hungry for knowledge, Roshan believed. ‘The legend tells that Theodore could defeat a hundred men on his own…’ Roshan dived into the tale, fictional or not; exaggerated definitely. It didn’t matter, it was one of his favourite legends – after Alora and The Dragon of course. The story was a classic.   
‘Theodore was merely a blacksmith, faced with great peril; his empire faced a seemingly unbeatable army. He pledged himself to Gardoz to enable him to protect his family, his people and his country. The god of war and death had watched Theodore place the bodies of his friends and loved ones into the soil for years as the battle between Empire and Kingdom never seemed to relent. Gardoz finally spoke to Theodore; Doth thou fear death? Theodore replied; Death is all I know. The god of war and death heeded the vow. Then, forge your steel in the fires of the volcano and temper your blade in the waters of the sea. Then you shall have a weapon that will never be beaten, Gardoz commanded.’   
‘Theodore did what was needed, taking a long journey up to the mountains where the volcano lay dormant, and then back to the coast of his island to temper his blade. The process seemed pointless to Theodore, but when he drew his steaming new blade from the salty waters, the weapon shone like nothing he had ever created before. Never seen before. The very first galdarka blade. Theodore used the blade to defend his family, his people, and his country. Theodore was unmatched and unrivalled, and it is said that his galdarka blade ignited with fire in battle and hungered for the blood of its enemies.’   
‘Theodore became the first Gardozian Knight and banded all his most loyal fighters to join him. He crafted only several more pairs of galdarkas, a long blade for battle and a shorter blade for ceremony, and he decorated them all with the ivory of mammoth tusks.’   
‘There’s a bit of truth to the story, then,’ Lara smiled.  
‘There usually is,’ he nodded, watching her smile.  
‘Enjoying yourselves?’ the High Priestess spoke from the archway to the room.   
Roshan immediately straightened up out of habit, and hated himself for it. ‘I didn’t see you there, ma’am.’  
‘And you’re the one with eyes,’ Celia teased lightly.   
‘I didn’t hear you either,’ Lara admitted. She wished so much that she could see, so that she could read the expressions on Roshan’s face. If she could just read him, she would know where she stood with him.   
‘It was a nice story,’ Celia admired sweetly. ‘I’m afraid I need you for a few hours, Roshan.’  
He got up from his seat, folding his arms behind his back. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to meditate alone, Miss Haylin.’  
‘That’s… okay, I guess,’ she said, her smile faltering slightly. Why the sudden honorific now? That unexpected sign of respect – because Celia is here?   
‘I’m sorry, it is really quite important,’ the High Priestess apologized as she departed.   
Roshan spared Lara a last glance before setting his dark eyes to the floor and following after his elder.

***

Lara awoke in her world of darkness, her brother waiting patiently outside her room as she dressed into her plain clothes and slipped into her navy blue robes.   
‘Breakfast is all ready,’ Elijah told her, taking her arm.  
‘What’s the occasion?’  
He feigned hurt, ‘Can’t a loving brother make breakfast for his ungrateful sister?’  
‘Hah – hah,’ she laughed sarcastically. ‘You’re obviously smug about something.’  
‘Your brother might have made a lady friend.’  
‘Ah, then you’re talking about Erik.’  
Elijah frowned suddenly, reaching the kitchen and guiding Lara into one of the dining chairs.   
‘Oh, you mean you found a woman just as dull as you in this place? I hope I don’t have to meet her,’ she teased playfully. ‘Please don’t say she’s sitting across from me.’  
‘She’s not, thankfully.’ Elijah took up his seat and began cutting up Lara’s eggs for her. ‘And she’s no Xirelia, but she’s clever and she’s kind. Her name’s Maria.’  
‘Clever and kind. Didn’t think that was your type, brother.’  
He scoffed. ‘What’s up with you? You miserable goat.’  
‘Mah,’ she bleated in self mockery. If Corbin were here, he would have laughed. ‘I really thought they would be back by now.’  
‘It’s hardly a trip around the island, Lara.’  
‘I know – I know,’ she muttered and ate her food as fast as she could – blindly – she knew she was going to be late for her lesson again.  
Celia Reinwood stood in the archway of the room, her hands held together. ‘I’m afraid there won’t be any lessons today.’  
‘Oh?’ Lara tilted her head to the archway.   
‘I’ve sent Roshan away for the day.’  
‘That’s where he went last night, then? On a ship?’   
‘Yes,’ Celia replied lightly. She crossed the kitchen and sat down beside her newest Alois followers. ‘How are you both getting on here?’  
‘It’s different,’ Lara said, grinning mischievously. ‘And Elijah has met a girl.’  
He’d elbow barge her if it had been fair and she could see that it was a playful gesture.  
‘Yes, Maria,’ Celia shared the mischief. ‘Lovely young lady. She should be in the library by now.’  
Elijah took the hint. He was a smart man and he prided himself on that. ‘I’ll clean this up later,’ he got up from the table and looked over the mess of their breakfast.   
‘I’ll clean it up, don’t worry,’ she offered kindly.   
He bowed his head and took his leave, knowing that Celia wanted to be alone with her special student.   
‘How have you really been getting on?’ Celia dropped her voice low. ‘You haven’t wanted to give up yet?’  
‘No. Gods no, I’d never give up.’  
‘I know,’ she said more softly. ‘Roshan isn’t exactly easy either, but he is the best teacher in this place. Better than me! He knows his stuff, and he knows what exactly to teach you.’  
Lara knew the High Priestess was being humble. She was a wonderful, inspirational woman and she always knew how to show a complement.   
‘How old is he?’ Lara pried. She imagined Roshan to be quite old – twice her age in fact – to know all that he knew.  
‘I don’t think he even knows.’  
‘He didn’t know his parents?’  
‘He didn’t know anyone,’ Celia folded her pale hands on the table. ‘You can keep secrets, can’t you Lara? I know you always look for them, it was how you were raised. Roshan didn’t have that luxury.’  
‘You clearly trust Roshan and all your followers here, so I trust them too, Celia.’   
The High Priestess watched Lara’s face, studying her for several seconds. ‘Roshan was going to help me reunite with an old friend. Well, my friend is never far from my room, but he can never leave this building and his reach is limited.’   
Lara cocked her head, dipping into the resources of her mind. ‘Your friend is a demon?’  
‘Not quite,’ she smiled meekly. ‘But he will fix your eyes and protect you. It has just taken a little longer for us to make that happen; make your mind ready. There will be no going back. Are you brave enough to face that?’   
‘As long as you don’t make me stab my brother,’ Lara joked brashly. ‘My mother learnt that one the hard way.’   
Celia didn’t seem offended. ‘We’re not a cult, and we’re definitely not Stargazers practicing blood magic.’  
‘Then that’s fine,’ she lifted her chin and feigned playful arrogance.  
The High Priestess of Alois moved her hand gently across the dinning table and lightly touched her student’s hand. Lara didn’t flinch. She was always so brave and steady.   
Celia put her cold hand on top of Lara’s. ‘You’ve always had responsibilities, Lara, whether they were indirect or not. Your mother has always been very dear to me. I met her in Concento and watched her turn into the incredible woman that she is today. She had friends help her, and never did she once squander that. I want you to have a choice, Lara,’ the High Priestess’ voice seemed to quaver with sentimental emotion. ‘The fight to make this world a better place won’t be easy, and sacrifices will have to be made, but will you still join me?’   
‘Yes,’ Lara uttered without hesitation, truly humbled by Celia’s words.   
‘Good,’ she wiped a tear from her eye with her free hand. She’d always imagined what having her own children would have been like, but that had been a sacrifice that Celia herself had made, so that she could fully serve Alois and the greater good. If she’d had a daughter, she would have been happy if she was half the woman that Lara was. ‘You’ve already endured so much, your whole family has. I don’t plan on staying here at all times, and I will need someone to lead when I’m not around.’   
‘Me? But…’  
‘You’ll have help. You won’t be alone. You’ll never be alone.’  
Lara pressed her free hand on her chest; those words were comforting to her.  
‘And I wanted you to get to know Roshan well, because he will be your second. What I did was not an easy decision,’ Celia withdrew her icy hand, acting as if she was disgusted with herself. ‘But I knew it would be for the best.’  
‘What do you mean? Having Roshan as my mentor?’  
‘Yes, and denying him everything he ever dreamed of. But the man dreams too big, and you will need to be there to reel him back in, Lara.’  
‘Of course,’ the young woman suddenly felt breathless. To suddenly be bestowed with so much trust and involvement in the Alois Order. It was almost too much to take in, but it excited her. All the opportunities to change the world were in her hands, and she could see why Celia had given that power to her. Her father already ran the underground of almost all the cities in Yaima and her mother pretty much ran a kingdom behind the curtains. Now she, Lara Haylin was being given the chance to run the Transition Empire from the side lines. Her family would own everything, and only a small portion of people would ever be aware. Was that much power safe? Lara felt ready enough to handle it.  
‘Your family worked hard for this,’ Celia said, as if she could read Lara’s mind. ‘They’ve already proved that they can make these lands better, without they themselves becoming corrupt.’  
Lara was already nodding her head, her heart still racing with excitement. This had been Celia’s plan all along.  
‘So let me tell you what I do know about Roshan. But you must never tell another soul.’  
She was still nodding, even if she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the truth – the burden of it. ‘I swear not to tell.’  
‘Roshan spent the majority of his life as a slave. I don’t tell you this so that you pity him, but so you understand how to work with him. He doesn’t want anyone’s pity, he’s already made that clear.’  
‘A slave?’ Lara murmured, trying to sound neutral, but there was sympathy in her heart.  
‘In Barass, slavery is imbedded in their culture. I suspect Roshan has llichivar blood.’  
Lara sat eager to hear more. She knew that her mother had llichivar blood, but that hadn’t made her look any less human. Maybe she was a bit taller than most women, and her youth remained after all her years of battle and stress. Llichivar usually lived between three to five hundred years after all. Megan Haylin’s fate had nearly been the same as Roshan’s, if she hadn’t been smuggled out of Barass with her twin brother all those years ago.  
‘He told me that he taught himself to read,’ Celia continued. ‘He would mine oil in the sands all day and then sneak to the library at night. He said he was nameless at this point.’  
‘Nameless?’  
‘Yes, he was just a number to his master, the numbed brandished onto his skin.’  
Lara felt her stomach churn. The inhumanity of it all, how can it be allowed?  
Celia latticed her fingers together, repeating the story that she had only ever told Johan. But Lara had to know. ‘He wasn’t the only one to sneak off to the library. He met a fellow lover of books and they both read together. They both decided to cross the line of defiance together and give themselves names. That was the first step forwards. Roshan never told me what her name was, the woman who shared his love of books. Marrying her was the second step of defiance.’  
‘Roshan’s married?’ Lara was gaping now.   
Celia shook her head sadly, even if Lara couldn’t see it, she needed to make the gesture. ‘They were both caught. The master of Roshan’s wife starved her to death. Roshan lost his ring fingers as punishment and as an eternal reminder, but he lived on. He became more ruthless with his reading; endeavouring to cram all the knowledge that he could into his head. Roshan said that he became so intelligent that his master’s began to notice. He was pulled out of the oil mines and used for nobles’ entertainment, like a walking encyclopaedia. That’s how I eventually found him.’  
‘Did you free him?’ Lara’s voice was almost a whisper.  
‘I bought him,’ Celia sounded sick. ‘But yes, I gave him his freedom. I told him he could stay here and read to his heart’s content. Naturally he stayed, slowly adjusted. Slowly. There’s still mannerisms that I notice. So you see, Roshan’s knowledge is his power.’  
Lara didn’t know what to say anymore. She could only picture his mutilated hand and scarred body. It was hard not to shed a tear. And what it must mean to Roshan to be reading with another person again. Maybe he needed that. Maybe Roshan needed a companion – someone gentle like herself – to prove that there was still compassion in this cruel world. Perhaps that was Celia’s plan all along.   
‘Today the second part of your training will begin,’ Celia announced after a long pause.   
Lara got up from her chair slowly. After all those legendary tales Roshan had shared with her; his own story was the most ground breaking. She couldn’t tear her mind away from it.  
High Priestess Celia took Lara by the hand and led her up and up the stairs of the Glade Spire. Higher than Lara had ever been inside the fortress of blue-grey stone.   
Celia didn’t speak a word as they entered the top room of the Spire. A room void of light or windows, but Celia could see through the darkness well enough. For Lara, it was nothing new.   
Celia still held onto her hand as they both sat down on a woolly rug.   
‘Clear your mind, and we shall meditate,’ was the only thing Celia said for the remainder of the day. 

Chapter 38 – Agony

Corbin Balvine felt older. Years older. As if being in this dark, fiery place was draining his life away. It was no surprise really; this dark place wasn’t meant to be walked by the living. He had to be resourceful with his arrows as there was no way of making any more. There were no trees or plants, no animals he’d ever recognised before. Nothing but demons – taking odd animal and humanoid forms – twisted and cruel.  
Fortunately, Arkael had no problem dispatching the waves of demons that never seemed to stop running at them. He would simply raise his hands and his eyes would glow more brightly before a shockwave of fire consumed the cluster of demons.   
Was this Arkael at his full potential? Corbin wondered to himself, not even bothering to draw his bow anymore. What was he capable of?   
Arkael was determined and focused, and he seemed to know exactly where he was going. He still held Xirelia’s necklace tightly in his hand, sweeping fire in front of him. With each hand movement, fire unleashed from him with maddening ease. Demons small and large burned away to dust. They never ceased to come back again however.   
‘Xirelia?’ Arkael called out unexpectedly after demolishing the path of red skinned demons in his path. ‘Xirelia?’   
‘Do you see her?’ Corbin asked with alarm.   
‘No, but I can sense her nearby,’ he replied hastily and broke into a run, hoping that it really was Xirelia this time, and not a different desire demon.   
Corbin held Vega by the hand and ran after their companion, Johan following close behind.   
Arkael could feel her presence, just like the first time Xirelia had spoken to him in his dreams. And he ran like he had never run before. He felt his magic pushing him forwards, closer to Xirelia’s aura. He disregarded all the other lesser demons around him, clawing to get at his flesh, Arkael turning them into dust as he ran forwards.   
‘Wait up, Arkael,’ Corbin called. Vega still couldn’t run very well on two legs.  
Johan broke into a sprint, passing the both of them. He moved with inhuman speed, catching up to Arkael’s burning trail-blaze in no time.   
He could see her now; glimpse her through the onslaught of demons. Her obsidian black hair was in view, matching the glossy stone underfoot.   
Xirelia sat in her human form, her knees tucked under her chin and wearing only simple black dress. Her green wolf eyes peered up at the magic wielder running towards her, and her mouth fell slightly open.   
Arkael slammed the last few demons aside with a large burst of energy and slid towards Xirelia. His Xirelia.   
She looked slightly afraid as she watched the demons around her scatter. She wondered why she wasn’t being blown into pieces as well. The man pulled her into his arms and she instantly sensed his power – smelt it in his blood. She, Xirelia hungered for a taste of that power.   
Arkael was lost for words. He could only continue to hold her into his chest.  
Johan stood over them, his red glowing eyes surveying the area for the returning demon’s attack.  
‘Have we met?’ Xirelia said in a playful, yet flattered voice.   
‘Xirelia? It’s me, Arkael,’ he pulled back from her slightly, staring into her captivating eyes.  
Xirelia had to squint as his eyes glowed into her. ‘You’re very lovely… and you’re not a demon either.’  
‘Is it not her?’ Johan said with a grunt.  
Corbin and Vega finally caught up, panting exhaustedly. Corbin felt like he had aged a year just running across the obsidian landscape to reach his companions.   
Arkael stroked Xirelia’s ivory cheek, taking in every curve of her heart-shaped face. Her voice was perfect too. It was definitely her. He had never been so sure about anything before. Does she not recognise me in this place?  
‘Where did you all come from?’ Xirelia’s head whirled around, and she smiled beautifully at the strong looking group.   
‘We came for you,’ Arkael said, almost pleadingly.   
‘Arkael… were you my previous master?’  
‘What’s –’ Corbin struggled to speak as he caught his breath. ‘What’s wrong with her?’  
‘She doesn’t remember us,’ Johan said plainly, sparing a brief glance down at the demon.  
‘I –’ Arkael’s words turned into a desperate croak.   
‘They’re coming back again,’ Johan warned, drawing his crimson blade.   
Claws skittered across the obsidian, unearthly growls began to fill the air.  
‘You don’t remember me?’ Arkael finally got the words out, still gazing into Xirelia’s face. The only face he’d ever love.  
‘I don’t remember… much. That usually happens when I’m newly summoned. I forget.’  
‘Who summoned you?’   
‘Zhander. He puts me back down here when I’m not needed though.’   
‘That son of a bitch,’ Corbin spat. He notched an arrow and used his hawk-like eyes to spot any oncoming threat.   
Arkael felt the rage build inside him, like ice in his veins. ‘What happens if you leave with us?’ he asked through gritted teeth.   
‘You’ve found a way to leave?’ Xirelia wondered curiously.  
‘We’re working on that,’ Corbin murmured.   
‘Arkael, we could use your help right about now,’ Johan warned again. He couldn’t allow the wave of demons to get any closer. They seemed to crawl and shamble their way over from all directions; emerging from the darkness. Johan went whirling into them anyway, baring his fanged teeth. His blade span in strong, definite circles as he cut through the army of hungry demons.   
Vega showed her own teeth as well, but they weren’t quite so sharp anymore.   
Corbin slid in front of her, still readying that white arrow in case one of the monstrous creatures made it past Johan.  
Arkael couldn’t care less in that moment. He would have quite happily held Xirelia until the demons washed over him. Nothing really mattered anymore without her. ‘I’ll come back for you,’ he uttered faintly. ‘I won’t let Zhander hurt you for another day.’ He wasn’t usually one for promising the impossible, but Xirelia was worth that much. He’d do the impossible for her. He’d move mountains, dry rivers, kill Zhander for good this time, anything to just bring her back.   
The curious and handsome warlock pressed a precious gemstone necklace into her palm and she gaped at the craftsmanship of it. Xirelia willed herself to remember something. Anything.  
Arkael pressed his lips softly onto hers, closing his blinding eyes briefly. ‘I love you.’ It was agony pulling himself away from Xirelia. ‘When the time comes, I’ll need your help to beat Zhander again.’  
Xirelia nodded, dumbstruck completely.  
Arkael turned to the army of demons and poured all of his anger and hatred for Zhander into one obliterating spell. His coat, scarf and sashes lifted around him and his eyes glowed like moonlight.   
Demons cried out in fear and pain before being immediately extinguished.   
‘It’s time to find Zhander,’ Arkael said gruffly, after casting the spell that should have left him weak and on his knees in his own realm. How much more powerful would Zhander Dracken be in this place? 

***

It wouldn’t take Arkael long to find out what Zhander had become.   
Xirelia got slowly to her feet after watching the warlock’s destructive spell, still holding the necklace in her hand. She’d felt like an eternity had gone by in this lonely place; only ever brought out to be Zhander’s plaything. She had lost all hopes of escaping the cruel wizard’s shackles, but then she had been found.   
Arkael sounded like a name that should mean something to her, and his face, his lovely face was distantly familiar. When he had touched her cheek, she had felt like she had waited a million years for his touch, and an eternity more for his kiss. And when he said he loved her, Xirelia knew that he truly meant it.   
I’ll come back for you.  
The skinny, blond haired man gave her a sympathetic smile as he passed. He held onto a scarred looking woman, who didn’t look like a human at all.   
But the last fellow startled Xirelia more. The man with dirty, dark blond hair and ferocious fangs, flicking tar-like blood from his long sword before sheathing it again. He glanced at Xirelia with glowing red eyes and continued on his path deeper into the realm of demons. Xirelia knew that there was nothing living about the last man, but he wasn’t a demon either.   
I’ll come back for you…  
Xirelia had half a mind to follow the group, but she knew that she was confined to this one spot, the invisible prison that her master had locked her in. Zhander had complete control over her and all the demons in this place. He was no longer a man. He was a monster.  
Arkael, the brilliant spell-caster, stormed off to find his traitorous enemy, each of his steps were as booming as thunder. ‘Zhander! Come and face me,’ he cried to the sky of lava, his voice rumbling just as loudly as his steps.   
Corbin still had an arrow notched on his bowstring and Vega on his arm – awaiting the storm that was about to come.  
Arkael didn’t get very far away from Xirelia before his challenge was met. It was torture for him to leave her behind, but ultimately safer in the end.   
Black ripples of smoke formed on the obsidian path, and a second later, Zhander emerged from the unearthly smoke.   
Except, he didn’t really look like Zhander anymore. His skin was raw, like it had been burnt multiple times, and his size was abnormally large. In short, he looked like a twisted demon himself.   
Zhander should be dead. What unspeakable sacrifice had he made to survive a mansion falling on top of him?   
Arkael didn’t hesitate to unleash lightning from his fingers. He barely had control of his power; he was so enraged to see the man who had taken everything from him.  
Zhander didn’t pause for ceremony or for speech either. He rushed at his enemies with superhuman speed, as if he was gliding along the glossy floor. Arkael’s lightning bounced off his raw skin and didn’t even singe his black robes as he hurtled towards the young warlock.  
Zhander spotted an arrow in the corner of his glowing green eyes and brushed it away as if it was a feather, and not a deadly projectile that should have gone straight through his ear and out the other side.   
The powerful, twisted wizard clawed out at Arkael. Actually clawed, like a feral animal. Zhander was nothing more than a monster in this realm; a huge, hulking beast of a man.   
Arkael stepped back with lightning speed, avoiding having the skin ripped from his face by the dark wizard’s misshapen nails.  
Then the demons returned. Bigger and darker than ever before, following the wizard who had summoned them.   
Xirelia could only watch in horror, pounding her fists against the invisible walls of her prison. Her memory came back to her, seemingly at the same time as Zhander had appeared. The memories hit her like a slap to the face.  
She remembered Corbin Balvine, always so cheerful and insusceptible to her charms. Loyal to the core.   
She remembered Johan Aldus. They always seemed to bump into the strange priest of Alois, but he looked much different now.  
Xirelia didn’t know who the elf woman with them was, but she knew who Arkael was now. Arkael Hölzer, a nobleborn blessed with immense power. Magic was all he’d had, it had been his blessing and his curse. And Zhander had taken that away from him – his very identity.   
Xirelia felt a rush of emotion, and it was like being set on flame. She remembered appearing to Arkael in a dream, and how he had given her complete freedom. Every embrace and kiss they had shared on their months bound to each other. She had watched him regain his power and call upon the elements, and she had witnessed his incredible power and never once feared him. He’d seen her true form and never feared her either.   
And now she was going to watch him die.  
The demons that returned this time were bigger than before, their features dark and stretched like spindly spiders.   
Johan hissed and drew his blade as he counted six demonic creatures. All as black as shadow, with sharp claws, gnashing teeth and featureless faces. Not even a pair of eyes – no humanity or survival instincts – just an existence of servitude. Johan pushed down his fear; an unfamiliar feeling, and charged into the closest shadow creature.   
‘…he didn’t even have a face. Just sharp claws and a biting voice,’ Lara’s words echoed in his mind. Words from over a month ago, when she had awoken and described the demon that had hunted her. It had been this thing in front of him now; a soul stealing demon.   
Johan swung his crimson blade but the massive demon caught the metal of it in its clawed hand. Claws as black as midnight. It laughed a cruel, raspy laugh, snapping the blade as if it was as brittle as chalk, and not finely crafted steel.  
Johan drew a long knife from his belt and charged forwards again, trying not to be too put off by his broken sword. A second demon grabbed his wrist, dagger-like claws tearing through his coat sleeve and flesh.   
He hissed again, fighting through the pain. He pulled his wrist free, blood dripping from his fingers, but the wound quickly healed. Johan launched himself forwards again, swiping his dagger across the first demon’s narrow neck.   
It didn’t seem to matter however. The soul stealing demon wasn’t made of anything physical that could be harmed by blades or arrows.   
It laughed cruelly again and plunged its long claws into Johan’s shoulders, taking him down with the strength of twenty men. Johan remained pinned to the floor as it turned to solid ice. It was cool on his already frozen skin, and Johan was left to contemplate how he had got to this point. He’d never lost a battle before in his life, but he’d never fought a soul stealing demon either. The contemplating stopped as soon as the demon sunk its crooked teeth into his neck. As soon as the agony of being eaten alive began.  
Was it just an illusion? Was this even his real body? Johan couldn’t think properly through the pain. Soon he would run out of blood to spill – the animal blood that he sustained himself on for years – seeped from his shoulder and his neck. He had become a plaything for the demon, which took great satisfaction in tearing into his flesh, watching it heal and then beginning the process over again. A small part of Johan believed that he deserved this.   
The demon closest to Corbin gave him more or less the same treatment. The arrow aimed at its face passed straight through.  
‘Ah, come on,’ Corbin moaned in defeat.   
The soul stealing demon that he faced ripped the white bow out of his hand and snapped it like a twig. He stared up into its eyeless face and felt a shiver run down his spine. The bow his mother had made him lay broken on the floor and Corbin’s usual bright, curious eyes filled with anger instead. He took the dagger from his belt but didn’t make it obvious.   
The demon as dark as shadow moved slowly, taunting its prey.   
Vega then moved forwards, putting herself between Corbin and the sharp clawed demon. She wished she was a wolf again. All her instincts were telling her to leap forwards and maul the horrible creature that was threatening her friend. She did throw herself forwards, disregarding any fears for her own health.   
The demon brushed the small elf away as if she were a tree branch.  
‘Vega!’ Corbin cried out in horror as his friend hit the obsidian ground and didn’t get back up.  
Corbin lost control. He became feral and wild, everything that his mother stood for. It was in his wood-elf blood, always threatening to spill out. He was Rayla Redgrave’s son. And Rayla Redgrave was many things; a ruthless assassin, an uncanny thief, a huntress with a steady aim. She was terrifying, but under it all she had a good heart that only a few people truly saw.  
Corbin dodged the swiping claws of his foe and brought his blackened dagger down on the demon’s spindly arm. It had just as much affect as his arrow. He hopped backwards, full of rage and willingness to die for his friends.   
The demon tried to spear Corbin with its claws, but he dodged again and glanced around. He spotted Johan falling to the floor, one of the six hulking creatures pinning him to the ground that turned icy underfoot.  
Corbin nearly slipped.   
The enemy demon in front of him did slip, falling onto its hands and knees, but that didn’t stop it from crawling towards its prey. It looked even more like a big spider now.   
Corbin disengaged, knowing that his attacks were useless on the faceless demons. He moved closer to Arkael, who had cocooned himself in fire.  
Xirelia could still only watch, imprisoned roughly twenty feet away. She shouted over the battle that looked like it was going in Zhander’s favour. ‘Arkael, I love you too, I should have told you sooner,’ her shouts were full of regret. She held the ruby and black diamond necklace to her breast, remembering how awful she had felt when Arkael was struck by the ballista bolt. She’d watched the life slip from him and it was the most unpleasant thing she had ever witnessed. She had only been able to beg him to stay alive and confess her love before it was too late. If Arkael had remembered her confession, he had never brought it up again. ‘Run, Arkael! It’s not worth it, but know I’ll always love you!’  
Arkael smiled with relief within his protection of fire. She had finally remembered. It almost felt like a weight off his shoulders, to hear that she felt the same way.   
Zhander threw his own flames at Arkael, but his were bright green and unnatural. But who was making the ice if Arkael was already summoning fire?   
‘You should leave me,’ Xirelia was now pleading, bashing her shoulder against her invisible cage. She couldn’t bear to watch Arkael die again.   
Meanwhile, Corbin was sliding around the ice covered path, tripping up the five remaining soul eaters. He managed to pull the one off Johan by sliding its narrow feet across the ice, and Corbin made sure that he led the horrible creatures away from Vega, who still lay unmoving on the floor. Then he turned his attention towards Zhander. If they had any hopes of beating six demons, Zhander had to be taken down first.   
Arkael’s smile only expanded wickedly as Corbin joined his side. The odds looked like they were now in his favour – now that what ever entity inside of him had woken up and summoned all the thick ice.   
Corbin didn’t care if he was going to die, just like he didn’t care when he fought Shannah. His own survival didn’t even get a looking into as he glided across the ice on nimble legs and unleashed a belt of small daggers upon Zhander.  
The dark wizard had to put up a magical barrier to stop the tiny knives from imbedding into his raw flesh. By which time, Corbin had already lunged forwards, swiping his dull looking dagger across Zhander’s arm.   
He cried out angrily, surging out at the insolent fool who had dared challenge him. But his eruption of green flame only slicked across the frozen floor. Where had the fool gone?   
Call it luck or call it intuition, somehow Corbin dodged the spell. Just like everyone else in this realm, his true form was showing through. Although he usually acted like he was human – took his human father’s family name – he would always have wood-elf blood in his veins. He could move with incredible speed and grace, survive the harshest conditions and he could hunt. Gods help you if you became the sylvan’s hunting target.   
Zhander was tiring, but he wouldn’t let it show. The blood dripped from his arm, black like tar. Another crack of lightning came down on him, but he shielded against it. This was just like fighting at his manor, nothing had really changed. Arkael’s eyes still glowed brightly, and Zhander yearned for that power. He had to have it. Why can this child have so much raw power, and I cannot?   
He knew he should leave. Leave before what happened months ago was repeated, and all of his planning and sacrifices were turned to ash, just because of a mere boy who didn’t understand the power in his own hands. Zhander disappeared in his fog of black smoke and reappeared next to Xirelia. At least she was his again.   
‘Get away from her,’ Arkael yelled, his voice booming and sounding unlike his own.  
Johan was already throwing himself at the evil wizard, but Zhander shot green flames out from his palm and the vampire had to recoil. Johan held his arms up in front of his face, and his skin seared. He’d never known pain like it as his flesh almost burnt to the bone. Being clawed and bitten by demons was nothing compared to this. He fell to his knees, wondering whether he would heal from this. He was a mess.   
Zhander smirked cruelly and grabbed Xirelia by her hair, forcing her onto her knees. ‘I’ll make her drain everything from you again, for years, decades. I’ll make sure it’s slow,’ he finally opened his thin lipped mouth to taunt his enemies. His voice was withered and harsh; he was more than just a mortal man in this place. He couldn’t defeat Arkael’s magic, but he could win in other ways. ‘There’s nothing you’d love more, is there, Xirelia? To serve your master dutifully?’  
‘Get off me,’ she fought against him furiously.   
‘SERVE ME,’ Zhander screamed wildly, yanking violently on her hair.  
Xirelia yelped, tears already falling from her beautiful eyes.  
Arkael lost control completely. He was already running towards Xirelia, the icy ground having no effect on his footing. A blizzard formed around him, cold winds blowing his jet black hair back. He cared not for the cold either.  
‘What – what is this?’ Zhander bristled angrily. Lava surrounded this realm, it was a realm of fire, and the only magic that he himself could call upon. Water and ice shouldn’t be able to exist in a place like this. Couldn’t exist! No one had used magic like this since… since Zula herself.   
‘Where is it?!’ Zhander demanded more angrily now. ‘Give it to me now, or watch the pretty demon BURN.’  
Arkael’s feet left the ground as he levitated upwards. He wasn’t sure who was in control anymore – him or Maiya – his rage blinded him, yet that other part of him, the part that caused his eyes to glow pure with raw magic, was as calm and cool and calculating as the blizzard surrounding him. He lifted up his hands steadily and shards of ice hovered in front of him for a split second, before hurtling towards Zhander.   
The dark wizard had to let go of Xirelia and guard his face. The shards of ice were perfectly aimed, avoiding Xirelia with ease. Zhander protected most of his body, but he had been caught off guard by such a raw form of magic. No one knew how to control ice, that was a magic that only the White Dragon Maiya blessed upon her llichivar children, who were now considered a rare race. As Zhander tried to fathom what his eyes were seeing, two sharp shards of clear ice struck into his left thigh and he shrieked out in pain.   
No, he wouldn’t let it end like this. Not again. Zhander cast his black smoke again – a trick he had learnt from the soul eater demons – and he was gone.  
‘Coward,’ Corbin barked angrily. He had been creeping up on Zhander ever since he had teleported twenty feet away. It would have been a delicious strike, but once the shards of ice started flying, he had waited a little longer, to see what would happen.   
As Zhander vanished, so did his cluster of soul eaters. All six of them disappeared in a gust of black smoke.   
The storm of ice eased into a gentle, cool breeze and Arkael’s feet met solid ground again.   
Corbin had to blink several times and whirl around on the spot. Zhander had truly vanished out of this realm. He then remembered where he was, and he had to steady his breath. Push back his feral rage. He saw Arkael land with ease and his glowing eyes seemed to stare straight through the illusion of the realm of lava. As if he could see into another world entirely.   
Corbin’s eyes glanced over Vega who still lay on her side, and to Johan who was knelt, cradling his bloody arms in his lap. Xirelia was directly in front of Corbin, and he didn’t waste another second to help her up. She was just as much a mess as Vega and Johan.   
‘I remember now,’ Xirelia smiled with relief, embracing Corbin tightly. ‘Arkael, why are your eyes still glowing?’   
‘That sort of, hasn’t stopped since we got here,’ Corbin replied meekly. His anger was spent and now he was just left with a broken bow and injured friends.   
Arkael heard his name spoken and turned his head. He brought a hand to his forehead and the magic around him ceased entirely. It was hard not to be intoxicated by the power of it all, but he forced himself to remember why he was there. ‘Xirelia.’  
Corbin was already rushing to Vega’s side to check her pulse as he glanced over at Johan. ‘Are you okay?’ he called over to the shuddering vampire.  
‘What does it look like!?’ Johan snapped back viciously. There was nothing human left on his face or in his burning eyes. The pale skin on his hands had almost completely burnt away and blood dripped from his arms profusely. He was too weak to heal, he’d already lost too much blood and he hadn’t eaten properly in days. He stared hungrily at Corbin and Vega, prone on the ground. He could so easily charge forwards at them and sink his fangs into…   
‘Get away from me!’ Johan snapped again, fighting against his animal instincts. He tried to focus on Celia, her beautiful face, her soothing voice telling him to stay in control. He could barely see past the agony.   
Vega moved ever so slightly, smiling weakly up at Corbin. She pulled herself forwards to rest her head in his lap.   
‘Don’t do that again, Vega,’ Corbin spoke soothingly in ethereal elvish. He kept a wary eye on Johan as he helped her onto her feet.   
‘I not,’ she whimpered. Her world whirled around her as she reached for the wound on her head. Blood was caked into her auburn hair where she had hit her head on the hard obsidian.  
‘I remember,’ Xirelia repeated, beaming brightly at Arkael. ‘Your magic did something, I think. It fought against Zhander’s bond to me. I can show you the symbols to summon me back to you.’  
Arkael nodded, holding back his excitement and hope in case she was wrong. He dipped into his satchel bag and pulled out a charcoal pencil and a notebook.   
Xirelia took the items from him and lay flat on her belly, hurriedly drawing the multitude of symbols into the small notebook. She filled page after page with black pencil, her tongue slightly sticking out as she concentrated.   
Arkael watched her with fascination, a smile playing on his lips. Now the situation seemed fine again, he felt slightly daft for ever worrying about her. He used to only ever worry about himself…  
‘Nearly there,’ she promised, tongue still poking out.  
As Xirelia frantically drew, Corbin gingerly approached Johan.   
The vampire was practically thrashing around on the floor. ‘I said get AWAY!’  
‘He needs food,’ Vega uttered timidly. She recognised the feral hunger on Johan’s face – she had almost been consumed by it herself when food was short in the Pelago Forest.   
‘We can’t leave you here,’ Corbin said, still slowly moving towards Johan.  
‘You can,’ he hissed, his wounds making him weak yet violent. His crimson coat was torn up and the sleeves were burnt away.  
Corbin’s stomach churned just looking at the burns that Johan had sustained. ‘Look, just have some of my blood,’ he offered, pulling his dagger back out of its sheath.  
‘Get back,’ Johan wailed. He wanted nothing more than to leap upon the half-elf and tear him apart, but he fought the urge.   
As Xirelia handed the notebook full of symbols back to Arkael – who studied them like a man who hadn’t eaten in days – Corbin’s echoing screams of agony made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.  
He whirled around, teal sashes swaying as his eyes locked onto Johan sinking his fangs into Corbin’s blood dripping arm. Without a thought, Arkael brushed his hand through the air and the vampire was sent flying back by the pulse of invisible energy, taking a good chunk of Corbin’s forearm with him.  
‘You damn fool!’ Arkael yelled, but it wasn’t directly focused at his friend. He was partly to blame for ignoring the wounded vampire and rushing to Xirelia instead. He couldn’t help but think only of her.  
Corbin fell backwards, all the colour leaving his face. He twitched a few times on the ground and then lay still.  
Vega made a unaudable scream, which sounded more like a howling wolf. She fell back onto the floor, her head still swimming and making her feel nauseous. She pawed at Corbin’s coat, willing him to wake as she wept silently.   
Johan stood back up, watching his arms rapidly heal before his very eyes. He felt the blood on his lips and puzzled briefly. Corbin’s blood.   
Arkael was already kneeling on Corbin’s other side, frantically trying to stop the blood flow that was gushing out of his ripped arm.   
‘Shit,’ Johan swore loudly. ‘What have I done?’  
‘You’ve killed him,’ Xirelia wailed, remaining on her feet just barely.   
‘No,’ the vampire grimaced. ‘No, I’ve done something much worse.’ He stooped to pick up the broken hilt-end of his sword. ‘You better remove his head or endure what comes next…’  
‘No one’s taking my friend’s head off!’ Arkael shouted furiously. He wanted to blast Johan into tiny pieces, but his hands were very much occupied and slick with blood. This must have been what it was like when the ballista bolt hit me.   
‘You better tie him up then,’ Johan said grimly. Every part of him wanted to run away. He loathed himself and needed solitude. He’d never actually turned anyone before, never consciously wanted to, but there was still that part of him. That part that was an untamed monster. He couldn’t leave, he had to fix what he had done.

Chapter 39 – Senses 

Almost a month had gone by, and Lara had stopped bothering to ask Celia of any news about her friends. If Celia was worrying about her right-hand priest, Johan, it never showed on her lovely face. Not that Lara could read expressions in her state anyway.   
Between her lessons with Roshan, Lara was lead up to the top of the Glade Spire to meditate in silence for hours. Hours and hours. She couldn’t work out why, and no one would tell her why either. Lara tried not to lose her patience, but she did find herself looking forward to her lessons. At least she had Roshan’s voice to listen to and she learnt something new.   
Sitting silently in a room, holding the High Priestess’ frozen hand was mind numbing. Maybe it was meant to be mind numbing. Lara let her mind wander as her meditation session came to an end that evening.  
Celia Reinwood left the top room, wearing a curt expression on her fair face, and still holding onto Lara’s hand.   
‘I need to sort something out,’ Celia tried not to sound as shaken up as she felt. Celia’s hand gently slipped from Lara’s and she left her in the almost empty kitchen.   
‘Are you hungry?’ a voice asked from across the kitchen.  
‘I’m always hungry, Roshan,’ Lara moved blindly into the room, touching the chairs around the round table to guide her way. ‘Where’s Elijah?’  
The priest rolled his shoulders, watching Lara carefully in case she tripped. ‘With Maria, no doubt.’  
‘Of course. So, are you going to cook for me?’  
Roshan’s arms relaxed from behind his back and he found himself nodding. ‘I will cook for you, if you’re feeling brave.’  
Lara chuckled, pulling a chair out for herself.  
‘That wasn’t a joke,’ he said stoically, but the corners of his mouth curled upwards. ‘I’ve read a lot of books, but I haven’t really practiced…’  
‘Then consider me your taste tester.’  
‘Very brave,’ he muttered and turned to the coal burning stove. He’d already marinated the two pieces of mackerel in lemons and stuffed a courgette with herbs and spices, now he had to just cook it to perfection. He’d even laid the table out neatly, decorating the centre with a set of small candles and an even smaller vase of wild flowers. Roshan appreciated the beautiful things in life, and pitied Lara’s lack of sight.  
‘Smells nice,’ Lara said after a few minutes. The smell of spices and herbs reached her nostrils but she couldn’t guess what was being prepared. Many questions filled her head. Why did Roshan respect her now? What did it mean for him to serve her freely? Did it not make him feel like a slave still? A habit he couldn’t shake? But more importantly – why was he here, with her, and not reading his beloved books? Lara felt her cheeks warm.  
Roshan didn’t even need to worry about the presentation of his food, but he still finessed it before putting the fish in front of Lara. ‘Does food taste different, now you can’t see it?’  
Lara tilted her head, picking up her fork. She hadn’t thought about that before.  
‘Sorry, that was really insensitive of me,’ he apologized instantly and joined the dinning table.   
‘No-no,’ she said brightly, prodding her meal sheepishly. ‘You’re curious of me, aren’t you?’  
‘You’re – I,’ Roshan shut his mouth.   
She had silenced him again, and had to hide her smug smile. ‘This is nice. I haven’t had fish in ages. But aren’t we… eating your family?’  
He puzzled for a moment, ‘Ah, my birth at sea.’  
And sold straight into slavery, Lara thought it but didn’t say it.   
Roshan cleared his throat and poured them both a glass of watered down white wine.   
‘How long have you been here?’ she asked, ending the long silence.   
‘In the Spire?’  
‘Yes, as a priest.’  
He slowly chewed on a mouthful of mackerel, debating his answer. ‘Eight months.’  
‘And you’re still happy here?’  
‘Where else would I be?’   
Lara sipped from her wine glass, offering half a shrug, ‘At court, like most of the other Alois followers?’   
‘Serving nobility?’   
Shit, Lara nearly spilt her wine as she slipped up.  
‘It’s okay,’ Roshan almost sounded amused. Almost. ‘I know Celia told you. She gave me a background about you, as well.’   
‘What is there to be told about me?’ she fidgeted in her chair and brushed a hand through her brunette hair.   
Roshan finished his food and set his cutlery down. ‘You were a skilled thief, and you helped run your father’s jewellery shop. You used to spar with your brothers, because you had hopes of someday becoming Menos’ next general. You even have a large shield upstairs in your room.’  
‘I…’ it was Lara’s turn to be left speechless. She had expected so many things for her future and had dreamt so big. She never expected to find herself here. Yet, she felt like it was the only place she was meant to be, right here, right now, with Roshan. ‘Sounds like an uneventful life when you put it like that.’  
‘You are still young,’ he pointed out, plainly. He took her empty plate and briskly cleaned up the mess. ‘So the food was acceptable?’  
‘Very acceptable.’  
‘Good.’  
Lara got up from her chair confidently. The food and wine in her stomach making her feel bolder than usual. ‘Would you like to see my shield?’  
‘Yes,’ he said hesitantly.   
‘Lead the way,’ she held out her arm to Roshan. ‘You know it’s funny that I don’t know what this place looks like. It makes every day an adventure.’   
‘You’re not missing much,’ he linked arms with her and lead her up the stone staircase. ‘Just a lot of old stone.’  
‘I still don’t know what you look like.’  
Roshan halted outside her room. Crossing the threshold felt oddly terrifying. ‘You’re still not missing much,’ he raised an eyebrow and pushed the navy blue door open for Lara to enter first.   
Lara laughed playfully, waltzing into her room. She kept it mostly empty so that she wouldn’t have anything to trip or bang her shins on.  
How does she always find joy in every little thing? ‘I’m quite ordinary looking,’ Roshan said meekly. He entered the half-moon shaped bedroom and seemed at a loss with himself.  
‘Close the door then, we don’t want a draft coming in,’ Lara deftly opened her narrow wardrobe and pulled out a pearl coloured shield, framed with gold and shaped like an upside down tear.   
‘It’s very nice,’ he admired.  
‘A skilled blacksmith made it for me, Farris. I think he was from Barass too,’ Lara sat on the edge of her bed, setting her shield down and brushing her finger tips over the smooth face of it. ‘I hope to get a matching weapon and armour. I’m not sure how much use that will be though, after Celia has groomed me for politics.’  
‘You’ll need armour for court,’ he jested dryly, tucking his arms behind his back after pulling the door shut.   
‘You’re right,’ she smiled. ‘I’m not tired. Did you bring a book with you?’   
‘Surprisingly not.’  
Lara patted the edge of her bed where her shield wasn’t resting. ‘Join me. I’ve had such a dull day, but a lovely meal. I get bored on my own. I can’t read, I can’t draw, and imagining things becomes boring after a while. I worry about Corbin and Arkael, Vega and Johan too. But I forget their faces…’  
Roshan slowly warmed up to the idea of sitting on the edge of the bed, his back remaining straight, his hands tucked into his sleeves, but he didn’t know what to do with them. ‘What did happen to you? Celia never said.’  
‘I touched a strange orb and fell into darkness. A living hell. Celia kept me sane and Arkael woke me up, but he thinks that he blinded me.’  
‘He was the sullen one, with black hair?’   
‘You’re one to talk,’ she scoffed.  
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’  
Lara’s heart skipped a beat, fearing that she had caused offence. She hated not being able to see expressions. ‘I mean, don’t you have black hair too?’ she attempted a joke – act playful and innocent.  
‘Who told you so? Now I can’t pretend that it’s purple.’  
She smiled with relief. An easy smile, now that she’d gauged his strange sense of humour. Lara reached out to touch Roshan’s robe covered arm, and it took every ounce of his self control not to pull away. ‘Will you allow me to find out what you look like, Roshan?’  
He had too much respect for her position to refuse.   
‘I’ve already read Celia’s face with my hand, and I imagined her to be quite beautiful,’ Lara explained, slowly tracking her hand up his arm.  
‘She is beautiful. I am just plain.’  
Lara could sense his discomfort as she traced her fingers over his face, from chin to forehead. It was something she had to do though, for his sake more than hers. If she was going to be working with Roshan – for possibly the rest of her life – he had to be shown humanity. She found that he had a clean shaven face, a slight dimple to his chin and a relatively small nose. She tried not to linger too long on touching his lips, but they seemed curved and quite thick; not thin and grimacing at all. His eyes seemed small too and his brow softer than she had expected. His over all imagine in her mind was one of soft features, which didn’t match his cold personality at all.  
Lara’s fingers lingered in his hair, which turned out to be even shorter than Corbin’s.   
‘I’ve never really known what to do with my hair,’ he sounded oddly apologetic. ‘It had to be shaved right back in… in Barass.’  
‘You couldn’t even choose your appearance?’ Lara uttered with disgust, still running her finger tips through Roshan’s hair. She felt breathless, and had to be blushing. She could only wonder if he was looking at her and noticing.   
‘I was property, not a person.’   
‘That just makes my blood boil.’   
‘It’s best not to dwell on it,’ he said gruffly. ‘I’m here now.’  
Lara moved her shield to one side. ‘Will you play with my hair?’   
‘Hmm?’   
‘My mother used to do this plait with my hair, starting right at the crown.’   
‘I think you might have me out of my depth, here,’ he squirmed.   
‘That’s why you practice, like you practice your cooking. And I miss looking respectable. And I miss my family… gods, I miss them so much,’ as she said it, it felt like a weight had left her shoulders. ‘Now I just feel dreadful for saying that to you.’  
‘I can’t miss something that I’ve never had,’ he stated plainly and moved his mutilated hands to her hair. Roshan felt hideous next to her. Lara was sweet and kind, so full of life and optimism. Her cheeks glowed brilliantly and her smile was always so easy. Roshan knew that she was the first person he had met to be every bit good and pure, and he knew that he had to protect her and everything she stood for until his very last breath.   
‘I think you can miss human contact. We’re born to be social creatures.’  
Lara’s hair was wonderfully soft and warm, wafting an expensive, smelling perfume into his face. Patchouli and rose mixed with citrus oils, a unique and warming perfume. It evoked memories of hearing a piano for the first time, opening a book and puzzling at the strange squiggles, casting his eyes onto the sea as a grown man and getting his first taste of freedom. Roshan was aware that he was over analysing, but he couldn’t help thinking that he had found his new favourite aroma – as if he was finding his sense of smell for the first time.   
Lara smiled happily as Roshan came to terms with every wave and kink in her long hair. It didn’t feel like there was a massive gap between them anymore, no more awkward tension. The silence in the room was no longer uncomfortable, and she didn’t feel the need to make jokes or ask for a story.   
‘Sorry, it’s a bit rubbish,’ he apologized again.  
Lara ran a hand over her freshly plaited hair and found nothing wrong with it. ‘I get the feeling you’re a bit of a perfectionist, Roshan,’ she said and passed him a pink ribbon.  
‘Never,’ his response was sarcastic but not cruel as he tied the end of her hair up.   
‘Can you put my shield away?’   
‘Certainly.’  
‘Will you stay?’   
Roshan halted in front of the oak wardrobe. ‘For a bit longer, I can. You should sleep soon though.’  
‘I can’t be late for my lesson if you wake me up,’ she uttered playfully, hiding her gleeful grin as she chewed on her thumb. ‘You can say no.’  
‘I could, but wouldn’t I face your scorn forever?’  
‘Witty!’  
Roshan tucked Lara’s shield safely into the wardrobe and turned back to the small bed. She was already lying on top of the covers, her cheeks still flushed.   
What was happening? Roshan felt his head spin for a second. He wanted to stay – keep watch over her all night, but he knew that he shouldn’t. Damn you Celia, for always being right.   
‘You’d think that I was offering you to swim in shark infested waters.’   
Roshan snorted, but she soon felt his weight ease back onto her bed.   
‘Me and my brothers used to play who can stay awake the longest,’ she muttered, stifling a yawn.  
‘That sounds like a dreadful game,’ Roshan smirked up at the stone ceiling.   
‘It was. Erik always won.’   
‘How would you know, if you were asleep?’  
Lara’s little eyebrows dipped suddenly. ‘That lying bastard.’  
Roshan chuckled warmly – for the first time – perhaps ever. 

***

Lara awoke in a daze. Always in her permanent state of darkness, she stumbled out of bed, managing to trip on a large lump on the floor.   
‘Flipping hell!’ she cursed loudly, putting her hands out in front of her. Vega was usually good at finding awkward spots on the floor to trip her up. Were they back? Luckily her fall wasn’t too painful.  
‘Gods, I’m so sorry,’ Roshan was instantly at her side, lifting her up with a strong pair of arms.  
Lara brought a palm to her forehead. She had completely forgotten about last night, how she had roped Roshan into her room and shamelessly flirted with him. ‘What are you doing on the floor?!’ she feigned exasperation.   
‘Was I supposed to leave?’ he pursed his lips and quickly took a step back from her.  
‘No, you were meant to stay, stay on the bed.’  
‘I… I still can’t sleep on a bed.’   
‘What ever do you mean?’   
Roshan sighed. ‘You’re clearly not awake yet, so I’ll spell it out for you. Slave – no have bed. Slave – sleep on floor for over twenty years.’  
‘Bah,’ Lara shook her head. ‘Here was me thinking that chivalry wasn’t dead.’  
‘Who said it was?’ he found himself laughing with her. ‘Milady.’   
She was glad that Roshan was finally starting to see the more amusing side of life now.   
‘Ah, your plait. My hard work, all messed up.’  
Lara held up a hand before untying the ribbon and untwined her hair. ‘It should be curly now, is it not?’   
‘Yes, it’s nice.’  
‘That sounded like a forced complement,’ she teased.  
‘Merely admiring my own work.’   
‘You’re so mean,’ she teased again.   
Someone knocked lightly on her door, and the smile slipped off Roshan’s face.   
‘Shit,’ Lara whispered hastily. ‘It’s probably my brother.’   
‘Shall I hide in the wardrobe?’   
She stifled a giggle, moving to her door. She had not had so much fun in weeks. Months even. When she was with Roshan, she barely felt blind at all. As if he painted every picture in her mind with his words. ‘Just a moment,’ she called to the door.   
‘Take your time,’ Celia’s voice called back.   
The situation couldn’t get any worse.   
Roshan’s nervous tick went off, and he could have rubbed his eyeball clean out with his sleeve if Lara hadn’t knocked into him.   
‘We haven’t done a single thing wrong,’ she said quietly. ‘Now look away whilst I change.’   
‘What?’  
‘I have to get changed.’  
‘I’ll be under the bed,’ he said grimly, before sliding like a snake into his hiding spot.  
‘As long as you’re not peeking.’  
‘Never.’

***

‘You should be ready now,’ Celia sounded rushed as she pulled her youngest student down onto the floor of the highest room.   
Luckily it didn’t seem as though she’d noticed anything fishy about Lara’s bedroom that morning. But what did Lara have to be guilty about? He slept on the floor, we didn’t even cuddle, or kiss.  
‘Are you ready to meditate?’   
Lara nodded with determination, within the pitch black room.  
‘Remember, there is no going back.’  
‘I understand, Celia. I want this.’  
‘Good,’ her cold hand squeezed Lara’s and she fell silent.  
The room was silent, for several minutes. Lara expected another silent several hours to go by and her butt to go numb on the rugged floor.  
But then…  
‘Lara?’ a man spoke; a voice that she did not recognise.  
‘Who’s that?’ she started, and her head began to throb with dull pain.  
‘I’m Celia’s friend. She said that you were ready now,’ the man spoke from her eternal darkness.  
‘Ready for what?’  
‘Ready to lead.’  
‘Gods, I’m only eighteen,’ Lara argued, reaching for the pain in her head. ‘I don’t sound ready at all, do I?’  
‘You sound humble, Lara. Alois has tested you greatly, but you haven’t broken, you are still eager to learn. Eager to shape this world. Eager to change people. Are you ready to learn more?’  
‘Yes, I want to help people,’ she cringed, feeling as if she had said the wrong answer.   
But the voice still sounded kind and echoic. ‘I am Marik. Speak my name, and you shall know all.’  
‘Marik,’ she uttered breathlessly through the pain in her head. It only intensified, her head feeling as if it was splitting open. Lara gritted her teeth, nearly blacking out from the pain. It stopped suddenly.   
Celia held onto both of Lara’s hands and peeled her off the blue rug.   
Lara looked down. The rug was as blue as the robes she wore. ‘I can see!’  
‘It worked,’ Celia beamed, hugging her priestess ally tightly.   
Lara caught something bright in the corner of her eye – gods I can see! – it was her own hair. She flicked the curls of her snow white hair, as white and shimmering as Celia Reinwood’s own hair.   
She glanced around the windowless room, but saw no lamps or candles, yet she could see perfectly. Lara saw Celia’s lovely, kind face at last.   
‘Gods, you’re beautiful,’ Lara began to cry, covering her face in her hands. It was almost too overwhelming.   
Celia smiled compassionately. ‘Marik is with you now. Don’t be alarmed if you hear his voice again.’   
‘Marik, your predecessor?’   
‘Yes,’ the kind man’s voice spoke from inside her own head.   
‘He lost his body years ago,’ the High Priestess latticed her dainty fingers together. ‘But his spirit remained. I could not explain this to you, I had to show you. And there was a chance that it wouldn’t have worked at all.’  
‘H-how,’ Lara stuttered, uncovering her face and marvelling at the sight of her own hands.   
‘All souls touched by Mother Maiya’s relic are tethered to this world. So, we have a bit of a problem on our hands,’ Marik explained patiently.   
‘Zula and Krotan stole that relic,’ Lara stated – she knew it because Roshan had taught her – but she felt as if she knew so much more than that. As if she could imagine Zula and Krotan for herself. Marik had faced off against them over two decades ago, after all. ‘Zula and Krotan will return.’  
Celia nodded grimly. ‘Zhander wants the same power that they had, and he will stop at nothing to get it. He came very close, and became very powerful. Arkael found him again, but he fled.’   
‘Zhander Dracken?’ Lara understood the bigger picture now. She’d never felt so clever before. ‘Arkael found him recently?’   
‘Several months ago, but merely a few days, for us,’ Marik offered up. ‘All time is relative.’   
‘You spoke to Arkael?’   
‘I spoke to Corbin, only very briefly.’   
Lara frowned, moving towards the doorway. ‘Corbin spoke to a spirit?’  
‘He touched the void, for a brief passing,’ Marik replied regretfully.   
Lara shot Celia a look. ‘Corbin died and came back to life, that’s what you’re saying.’  
‘I’m sorry, Lara,’ she hung her head low.   
‘Will you send my family the good news?’ Lara said calmly. Calmer than she felt, she left the room briskly. She had to find her brother… she had to find Roshan.  
Lara Haylin skidded into the kitchen, recognising none of it.   
A man stood with his hands behind his back next to the coal burner. A man that could only be Roshan. He had dark skin, black hair and eyes that were almost just as black. Lara didn’t waste another second, and skidded across the rest of the kitchen to hug him. Her tears fell onto his shoulder, and he patted her lightly on the back.   
‘What’s wrong?’   
‘Nothing’s wrong. I can see. I can see you,’ she beamed up into his soft featured face.   
Roshan cleared his throat. ‘That’s unfortunate. Ordinary, aren’t I?’ he brushed her colourless hair gently away from her face. ‘Hmm, something else has changed. I wonder what.’  
‘I quite like it,’ she smiled brilliantly at the bright white hair flowing over her shoulders.  
‘Mmhmm,’ he agreed quietly.   
Lara snatched up his hand, examining every scar, front and back, and the missing ring finger too. A stump just past his second knuckle.   
Her eyes glittered with more tears, and she unabatedly kissed the back of his warm hand.   
Roshan looked mortified. ‘I don’t deserve your kindness.’   
‘Why not? You taught me everything – helped me to see again.’  
He shook his head and slid past her. ‘I shall be in the library, if you should need my assistance, Miss Haylin.’  
‘You don’t have to be so formal,’ she laughed, but he had already left the kitchen. Perhaps she was pushing him a bit too fast.   
‘Curious…’ Marik uttered internally.   
Lara blushed profusely. ‘Can you see everything I can see?’  
‘As if we share the same body, because we do! By the way, you don’t always have to speak aloud.’   
‘Now you tell me?’ Lara spoke inside her head.   
‘As much as it would amuse me to watch you babbling to yourself… I’m sure they still burn people for that?’   
‘I’m so glad that you’re a charming spirit.’ She folded her arms and stalked out of the kitchen to search for Elijah. 

Chapter 40 – Touching the Void

Arkael finished tying Corbin up with the half-elf’s own silk rope.   
His eyes met with Xirelia’s. ‘Is there anything you can do?’ she murmured.   
‘I could keep him unconscious,’ Arkael replied breathlessly. He wiped his blood stained hands on the obsidian ground. ‘I’ve always wanted to say that sentence, until now…’  
Corbin made a sound like he was coming up for air after a long dive and all four of his companions looked down at him.   
Vega squealed happily, rushing forwards to nuzzle him, but Johan held her back. She struggled for sometime, but Johan held her still in a vice-like grip. She whined miserably in elvish, but no one could understand.   
Corbin’s eyes snapped open, and they glowed red. He struggled with the rope wrapped tightly around him and snapped his razor sharp teeth. He only had one vocation – hunt.   
Corbin almost managed to flip onto his feet, but Arkael shoved him back down; making sure he didn’t lose a hand in the process. ‘Cut it out, fool.’  
Xirelia bit her lip, shaking her head sorrowfully, ‘My poor puppy.’  
‘He’s in a blind rage,’ Johan offered, holding Vega by the arm now.   
‘Thanks, I couldn’t have worked that one out for myself,’ Arkael snapped. His glowing eyes were like daggers on the Alois priest’s skin. He pushed Corbin back down again, hardly looking at him. On the upside, the gash on his arm had completely healed.   
‘B-but he will be normal again, like you usually are, Johan?’ Xirelia stuttered, wiping a tear from cheek.   
‘Given a few years of practice, yes,’ he nodded slowly.   
‘We don’t have years,’ Arkael almost spat. ‘We need to leave and find Zhander again. What are we meant to do, put him on a leash?’   
‘Magic,’ Vega said, pointing to the warlock. ‘You magic, use magic.’  
‘Damn it, I’m not a healer. I can’t reverse the dead.’   
‘Can’t you?’ Johan asked in a challenging tone.   
Arkael wracked his brain, his expression turning stone cold. ‘The only way I know would involve making a pact with a demon, which would make Corbin just as… as…’  
‘What is it?’ Xirelia worried, holding her jewelled necklace to her collar.   
‘That’s exactly how Zhander came back. He sold his soul.’  
Johan was nodding slowly. ‘Krotan and Zula could have easily done the same.’   
It was all making sense now, in a sickening sort of way. Arkael rubbed his glowing eyes. ‘The Scale of Maiya gave absolute power. The Feather of Muraz took away absolute power. There was always a balance, until it was broken…’ the fatal words of the strange assassin echoed in his head. Aryn had stolen Maiya’s relic for Zula, and for whatever reason, a piece of its magic was now inside of him. And that was why Aryn could not kill him. It was if the Dragon Goddess had planned it all along, Maiya had known that Krotan and Zula were not truly dead, and that they would some day return and abuse the relic’s power again.   
Maiya had chosen Arkael, moulded him into her champion, knowing that he would one day have to face terrible demons. Some how Corbin fit into it all too perfectly as well – his mother had stood up to Krotan and Zula. Rayla Redgrave had supposedly stolen Maiya’s relic from Zula.   
Arkael had never chosen this path, he had never asked for this destiny. It maddened him enough to almost shout out with anger.  
‘Arkael, darling?’ Xirelia’s soothing voice spoke over the maddening thoughts.  
What part did she play? Or was she the only serendipitous thing in his controlled and tormented life?  
‘You’ve yet to bind me to you,’ she reminded sweetly. ‘Maybe we can both use our strength to calm Corbin down. But maybe you should do the ritual not so close to him…’   
Arkael blinked his glowing eyes and got to his feet.   
Corbin immediately began to roll across the floor, attempting to worm his way out of his bonds. Johan pushed Vega back and made Corbin still with his booted foot.   
It was a blood ritual. Arkael wondered if there would be complications from summoning a demon from her own realm, but what did he have to lose? He plucked the obsidian dagger from his belt and smiled grimly as he looked down at the matching ground. Was there a connection there? The irony of it all was almost too much to take.   
‘The sooner we leave this place, the better,’ Xirelia said hopefully. ‘I miss your world, and everything it has to offer.’  
The complications of falling in love with a demon. Arkael pushed his nagging thoughts aside and flipped through the symbols Xirelia had drawn into his notebook. They moved quite far away from the rest of their companions until it was just the both of them.   
‘I hope Corbin isn’t forever changed,’ she said sadly, looking up into Arkael’s glowing eyes.  
‘He’s tougher than he looks.’  
Xirelia still found the warlock hard to read. She still felt blissfully intimidated around him, desired him more than anything. Her charms had never worked on him – so what he felt for her had to be genuine. She had never thought that was possible. ‘I’ve been lonely for so long…’ she uttered, putting a hand on Arkael’s sleeve covered arm. She wished so much to be human, to be like him. She’d resist her very nature for him.   
‘Me too,’ he said gravely. He liked standing with her alone, even if he found it hard to look her in the eyes. Even if his chest hurt him. He’d always mocked Corbin for harping on about love, but Arkael had never known what love was. His parents certainly never showed love for him, and every woman at court only pretended to like him, no one had truly known him. So this is what love feels like? The feeling had been so sudden, but he knew that he would never want someone else. He could only trust her. Trust Xirelia not to break his fragile heart.   
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked gently.  
‘Nothing,’ he uttered plainly – still so unreadable.  
Xirelia folded her arms and raised a thin eyebrow.   
‘Everything,’ Arkael admitted, finally gazing into her captivating eyes. He had so much to tell her, but so little time.   
He pushed his sleeve back and the obsidian blade met with his skin, he winced slightly and began tracing the air with the blood tipped dagger. He copied the symbols in his notebook and chanted the demonic words, ‘Es astas krell vas tas.’   
Xirelia stumbled slightly, like a powerful wave had pushed into her. For a few moments her beautiful illusion faltered, and she encircled her wings around herself meekly.   
The binding ritual was soon complete and her illusion restored.  
Arkael felt strange. He saw Xirelia as a close companion, not a servant who had to be summoned. He knew in that moment that he needed to find a way to free her. Free her from any sort of bonds, forever.   
Arkael wiped the blood from his arm and dagger tip. It was barely a deep cut.   
‘Thank you,’ she moved closer, on unsteady feet.   
He puzzled slightly.  
‘You came back for me.’   
‘Of course I did.’  
‘I hope leaving with me won’t be a problem,’ she said, suddenly shier than she had ever felt.  
‘I don’t care where I am, as long as I’m with you,’ he said seriously.   
Xirelia leant into him. ‘You mean it?’  
‘I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,’ Arkael replied roughly. He held her tightly, never wanting to let go.  
Xirelia listened to the sound of Arkael’s beating heart, her hands finding his neck and face. She wanted the moment to last forever. She looked up at Arkael, his cheeks faintly flushed and his expression slightly abashed. There was no hiding how much he cared about her.   
Xirelia smiled playfully, rocking onto the tips of her toes, yet she still couldn’t reach his thick lips. ‘I don’t remember you being so tall.’  
‘Comes with the glowing eyes,’ he smiled awkwardly.  
Xirelia giggled and pulled his head down, forcing her soft lips to meet with his. Desire warmed Arkael’s body, and he could have easily got lost in her embrace. Her exotic perfume, silky soft hair, her perfect face – it was all he needed. But he had to pull away. As much as he wanted to remove Xirelia’s slinky black dress and feel her body against his…   
They were still in a realm of obsidian and fire. Zhander needed to be pursued. Corbin needed help.   
‘Damn it, Corbin,’ he muttered into Xirelia’s hair, slowly, agonisingly sliding his hand away from her waist.   
‘We’ll have to find a bed as soon as we’re out of this place,’ Xirelia spoke inside his head. It was bliss to hear her voice with him again.  
Arkael shook his head, unable to hide his smile as they walked closely together, back towards the rest of the group. ‘And the vulgarity returns…’  
‘Of course, darling.’

***

‘How is he doing?’ Arkael asked, looking fiercely at Johan.   
Corbin stared at Arkael’s black boots in front of him, but he didn’t try to fight his ropes.   
‘Better,’ the elder vampire murmured. ‘Better than I was.’   
Corbin’s eyes rolled upwards, as if he was seeing Arkael and Xirelia for the first time. ‘What happened?’   
‘I’ll let you explain, shall I?’ Arkael glared at Johan now.   
‘I bit you,’ he said grimly, his mouth forming a thin line.   
‘That wasn’t very nice,’ Corbin said through a dry, rattling cough.   
‘I think he might be back,’ Xirelia beamed hopefully.  
‘Unfortunately…’ Arkael bantered.   
‘I’m not going to lie, I’m really thirsty. Blood thirsty. As if I could kill Captain Varnette ten times over and then… no, it’s not right. I don’t want to feel like this,’ Corbin squeezed his red eyes shut. ‘Please say the blood lust goes away.’  
Arkael crouched down beside him, checking his pale face. ‘Save it for Zhander, hmm?’   
He gasped a few times, like a fish out of water, still trying to block out dark images and desires. ‘Where – where did Zhander go?’  
‘He fled. Think you can hunt him down?’  
‘I – I think I want to go home now.’   
Arkael stroked the thin beard on his chin and looked up at Johan. ‘Ah yes, I’m sure Rayla Redgrave is going to be so pleased with you.’   
‘I deserve her wrath, for what I’ve done,’ he nodded, accepting his fate so easily. 

Chapter 41 – Shattering Truths

Corbin felt a little bit ridiculous and very much ashamed as he was escorted by Johan with his arms tied behind his back. Corbin walked over the obsidian ground, his head aching, his eyes felt dry and his throat burned. He could barely look at Vega. She was so sweet and innocent, but all he could think about was the pure elven blood racing through her fragile body.  
Arkael smelt different as well. The smell was intoxicating, and the cravings were almost overwhelming. Corbin used to get the same mouth watering cravings from the scent of a hot cooked meal – meat with rosemary, warm gravy, spiced curry and freshly baked bread. Corbin no longer craved any of those things.  
At least Xirelia and Johan didn’t tempt his hunger.  
Corbin could only push his thoughts back and close his aching eyes. And just walk. One foot in front of the other, even if each step felt like it dragged for a day. What will everyone think of me now?   
Tears streamed from Corbin’s eyes – not for his own self sympathy – but for all of his friends and family and what they would see in him now. How heart broken his parents would be. He had never been pushed to be perfect, but he felt like he’d had big shoes to fill. His father had been a general and a king, and some how Troy Balvine had mended Rayla’s heart against all the odds. His mother had trained him to be fast and strong and deadly, but Corbin had inherited his father’s softer side and his kind eyes.   
Now he could never be perfect and make them proud.   
What would Kalania think?   
Overwhelmed by the nightmare that he found himself in, Corbin bit down on his lip and discovered just how sharp his teeth were. He winced as blood trickled down his chin.   
‘We’ll be home soon,’ Arkael said, shooting his friend a long glance.  
Corbin squinted as the warlock’s glowing eyes studied him. He wiped the blood from his chin on his shoulder and forced a smile. ‘I trust you,’ he nodded, and really believed it. He always believed in other people more than he believed in himself. Look where that’s got me.   
It had been a foolish accident, and Corbin could almost laugh. He had no one to blame but himself. But he would continue to fake it and mask the pain and the fear and the spiralling decent of never being good enough. Corbin had always found it easy to be humble because he had never felt good enough – not for his friends, not for his family, not for his country or any helpful cause. He still didn’t feel worthy of Kalania.   
‘And I’ll find a cure for you.’   
‘Arkael…’ Corbin burbled. His ears didn’t recognise the sound of his own voice, as if he’d had too many cups of wine. ‘You’ve already done enough for me.’  
‘You faced Zhander by my side. I never thought I’d find a… a friend like that.’  
‘You’re just trying to make me feel better,’ he raised his voice, attempting to sound playful, when he really felt empty.   
‘It’s hard for me to trust,’ Arkael admitted slowly, looking down at the glossy ground. Xirelia brushed against his shoulder, humming softly. ‘I always expect the worst in people now.’   
‘I trust too easily,’ Corbin smiled wryly at the vampire pulling him along.   
Johan had nothing to say. He’d been silent for hours now, and wracked with guilt. 

***

Arkael wasn’t sure how long they had been in the demon realm anymore. It felt like a year. There were no signs of Zhander Dracken again or his army of demons.   
Perhaps they were all on the surface now? Arkael wore a sardonic smirk as he thought about how typical it would be to find their own realm in ruin upon returning. But as he held onto Xirelia’s porcelain hand, he found that he didn’t care. As long as he found Zhander again and made him pay for betraying him – and more importantly – for hurting Xirelia.   
‘Do you think he will have a trap waiting for us on the other side?’ Arkael mused.   
‘Likely,’ Xirelia batted her lashes at him, still twining her fingers with his.  
‘Perhaps I should give him a surprise,’ his smile grew. He couldn’t help but smile around Xirelia. He couldn’t believe that he had found her again. ‘And stop anyone from ever entering this place again.’   
‘I better make you a lot of copies of the symbols then.’  
‘That’s what I was thinking,’ he walked steadily onwards. ‘So, Zhander still had a copy of those symbols to summon you?’   
‘I suppose so,’ she grimaced slightly, but her beauty did not falter.   
Arkael hated the idea and made his pace more brisk. Xirelia managed to keep up as he thundered along menacingly.   
More hours, which felt like weeks slid by hazily, and eventually the sky of smouldering lava faltered in patches.  
‘This must be the gate,’ Johan spoke at last, looking up at the patch of black, dotted with what looked like stars.  
Helpful, Arkael couldn’t be bothered to open his mouth and insult the vampire, who only seemed to state the obvious.  
Xirelia smiled sweetly, finally letting go of Arkael’s hand and moving behind him. Everyone else stopped behind them as well, Vega standing at the rear. She had been following Corbin for what felt like endless hours, but still didn’t understand why he was being cold towards her. Wasn’t taking her arm and helping her anymore. Did I do a bad thing?   
‘Should I do the blood ritual again?’ Johan wondered, pulling out his broken sword.   
‘With Corbin around?’ Arkael frowned.  
‘He has no desire for the stale blood that I carry around.’  
‘Lovely.’ He looked over his shoulder with a slight grimace as Johan moved up to start his ritual.  
Corbin looked up from the obsidian ground, looking incredibly tired. His wrists were still bound, but he showed no signs of resistance, even if there was an internal battle going on inside his head. Nothing has changed there. The desires to fall into savagery were just stronger now. Corbin trailed his eyes back to the ground, dizzy from hunger. If he was going to sink his sharp teeth into anyone, it would be Zhander, and not his friends.  
Blood mixed with fire and a shimmering, purple veil fell down from the never ending sky.   
‘You and Corbin should go first,’ Arkael said sternly.  
‘What if Xirelia can’t pass through?’ Johan’s eyes glittered, practically sawing into his arm to gather enough blood to sustain the ritual.   
‘That’s not your concern, is it?’   
He didn’t put up a fight. Johan took Corbin by the arm and hurled him into the shimmer of purple magic before disappearing after him.   
Vega followed without thought, breaking into a clumsy run.   
Who knows where they would end up? Arkael thought and took a hold of Xirelia’s hand again.   
She gazed up at him with adoration in her pale green eyes; an undying love for her man. ‘I’m ready.’

***

Corbin tumbled into a holly-bush thicket, his face pressed against damp soil. A forest. At last, a forest. He imagined all the game that he could hunt as his hands fought with the bonds. He wasn’t given very long, before a firm pair of hands righted him onto his feet.   
Johan stood before him, his dirty blond hair combed neatly as always and his eyes no longer glowing. His fangs less prominent. The older vampire pulled the blue woollen hood of Corbin’s cloak over his head, before doing the same with his own red hood.   
It was day time, but the sparse forest shaded the two hunters of the night well enough.   
Corbin felt something at his leg, and looked down to see Vega, the auburn wolf, pressing her snout into his trousers. He had the urge to stroke her thick coat, but alas…  
Vega plonked down on her rear, swishing her fluffy tail across the mossy ground. She could smell the urge to hunt on her friend, and was ready to run with the pack again.  
‘I don’t see them,’ Johan muttered anxiously. He stared over Corbin’s head as he put gloves over his hands.   
Hunger stabbed in Corbin’s stomach, chest, throat. It was hard for him to think past the hunger. He looked around at the thin evergreen forest, spotting the dark Vail Wall looming over the three of them. This is where he had found Arkael, weeks ago… months ago? He’d been climbing the trees; he had needed to warn Arkael about Shannah.  
‘Arkael,’ Corbin croaked with a dry throat.   
After a long, worrying moment, the ground beneath their feet began to shake. The old trees shook violently as the earth began to crack.  
Corbin almost fell over, without his arms to steady him. Johan took his arm and pulled him away from the shaky ground. Vega instantly bounced out of the way, her legs swaying with the earthquake.  
A bolt of lightning struck up through the earth, smashing soil and the wood of a few trees into pieces. Arkael arrived on the lip of the broken earth, pulling Xirelia to his side. Lightning fizzled around him and then died. Arkael fell to his hands and knees panting, cursing his lack of stamina in this mortal realm.   
‘I remember this place,’ Xirelia looked around, beaming with relief. She helped Arkael onto his feet, noticing how normal he looked now.   
Corbin and Johan stood fixated, both with slack jaws. Vega’s torn ears lay flat against her head with fear.   
‘This is where the demons were appearing and attacking the villages,’ Johan found his voice, answering an unasked question – as always. ‘The Gardozian Knights should still have their camp nearby. But, I don’t think there will be any more demons, after…’ his dark eyes cast to the sink hole behind Arkael and Xirelia.   
They were barely listening. Arkael wiped sweat from his forehead, relieved to have finally rescued Xirelia. After all the tormenting trials, he had got her back. He thought he would have to die trying, but that wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Perhaps there was still hope for his miserable existence.   
Xirelia put her dainty hands in his. ‘I don’t think I can wait for a bed. Maybe a carriage will have to do,’ she purred breathlessly. 

Chapter 42 – Meaning 

‘Where is she?’ Lara’s father barked with wide eyes.   
Megan had her arm tightly linked around Arkarien’s, holding him back from Celia. The General of Menos could just picture her husband picking the delicate High Priestess of Alois up and shaking the information out of her.   
From how cool and collective Arkarien could be, he sometimes had spontaneous outbursts that just drove Megan wild.   
Celia bookmarked the page she was scribbling notes on and smiled warmly. ‘You got here quickly.’  
‘Where’s my daughter?’ he barked again.   
‘Upstairs in her room, on the forth floor.’   
Megan finally let go of his arm, allowing him to thunder up the spiralling stairs of the Glade Spire. ‘Thank you,’ she smiled before crushing Celia in her arms.   
Arkarien burst into the room on the forth floor, finding Lara sat in bed. She jumped out of her skin, dropping the book in her hands.   
‘Whose he?’ he glared at the man on the foot of her bed, who immediately arose and stood with his arms behind his back.  
‘That’s Roshan,’ Lara stifled a giggle. She rushed off her bed and into her father’s arms.   
Arkarien’s expression softened as he held his little angel tight. ‘You can see?’   
‘I can! And you look older than I remember,’ she teased boisterously.   
‘Where did you get such a nerve?’ he jested with a smirk. ‘And what happened to your hair?’   
Megan squeezed her shoulders through the ancient doorway and swung Lara into her large arms.   
Lara felt her heart warm, ‘I missed you so much. Did you leave Brew in charge?’   
‘I did,’ her mother nodded. ‘And Erik has the shop under control. Who’s this?’ Her eyes gazed over to the dark skinned man, still standing rigidly with his arms hidden.   
‘Roshan!’ Lara rolled her eyes.   
‘Doesn’t he speak?’   
The ex-slave bowed stiffly, ‘It’s nice to meet you, Mr and Mrs Haylin.’  
‘Actually, it’s just Arkarien,’ said the thief master. There was no arrogance in him, but a formidable presence which was hard not to respect. He was only a loving father for so long, before the cunning rogue took over. He had trained countless thieves, kept order in a city full of chaos and stolen countless treasures.   
Lara had watched countless men crumble under that stare. Witnessed both her parents take young, inexperienced boys and girls and turn them into real men and women. Lara held her breath.  
‘Just Roshan, a priest here,’ he said, gracefully bowing to Lara’s parents. ‘I’ve been teaching your daughter. The High Priestess has appointed me her second.’   
‘A second?’ Arkarien raised an eyebrow.  
‘High Priestess Celia hasn’t told you?’   
‘Told me what?’   
‘Your daughter is going to be stepping into The High Priestess’ shoes some day,’ Roshan explained, so naturally, so stoically.   
Arkarien had a look as if he’d been slapped in the face.  
Lara’s jaw dropped. Why wasn’t Roshan melting into a puddle?   
Megan laughed hysterically however. ‘That’s great! Our daughter, is going to become the next Marik Hölzer.’   
‘Is that a good thing?’ her father’s eyes widened.   
Lara played with her bright hair nervously, Marik Hölzer indeed.   
The spirit inside her head remained silent. Silently in awe of seeing Megan Haylin again.   
‘Do all the High Priestesses have to have white hair?’ her mother teased.   
‘Ah, that came with curing my eyes…’ Lara said awkwardly.   
‘All right,’ Arkarien composed himself. ‘Does that mean you will be attending the Emperor’s court?’   
‘Yes, father.’  
‘Celia will be training you?’  
‘Of course,’ she smiled sweetly.   
‘You’re happy here?’   
‘I am. Stop worrying!’  
Arkarien nodded steadily. ‘I need a word with Celia,’ he announced before leaving the room.   
‘Let’s find Elijah and cook an obscene amount of food,’ Megan suggested gaily, kissing her daughter’s cheek before pulling Roshan into a bone-crushing hug. ‘Thank you for helping Lara.’  
‘I’m sorry about that,’ Lara whispered after her mother had left the room.   
Roshan shook his head dismissfully. ‘It’s fine.’  
‘I thought you were going to be sick.’  
‘Me? Never,’ he said straightly, but his dark eyes glittered with slight amusement. ‘So what do I call your mother? General Haylin?’   
Lara did laugh then, covering her mouth with her hand respectively. ‘You’re so funny, Roshan.’  
‘Seriously, what do I call her?’ he fought not to laugh as well, now that the tension in the air had diminished. 

***

Lara sat in the round kitchen of the Glade Spire, drinking in the scene. Celia, Elijah, Roshan and her parents crammed around one small table, with a feast large enough for double the diners. Lara noted that Maria wasn’t with them, was busy, wasn’t invited, sent away? Lara still hadn’t met the priestess that Elijah was courting. She was beginning to think that Maria wasn’t even real.   
It was a rare feeling to block out all worry of what tomorrow would bring and just focus on everything good. Lara Haylin felt so full of love; for all the people who loved her and the people that she loved. Her mother, her father, her brothers, her godparents, Corbin, Vega, Arkael, Roshan. Her heart was full of so many people, and there was room for so many more.   
‘Is your mother still in touch with Rayla Redgrave?’ the voice inside Lara’s head, (which was not her own) awoke all of a sudden.  
‘They are very close still,’ Lara spoke in her mind as she dug into her chunk of baked salmon.   
‘I’m glad.’  
‘Is it hard for you to see your friends, but they can’t see you?’   
Marik was silent for a long time. Just when Lara thought he wouldn’t speak again, and she sipped wine from her glass, Marik spoke as jovially as he could. ‘It’s hard, yes. But you can help me watch over them still, can’t you?’  
‘Of course. No matter how odd this is for me.’  
‘You looking after your mother and godmother? What’s odd about that?’ Marik said teasingly, a playful air to his tone. ‘That fish looks delicious by the way.’  
Lara snorted aloud but still kept her words internal. ‘Can you taste it?’  
‘No.’  
‘Lara, darling?’ Megan had a keen eye on her daughter. ‘Are you all right?’  
‘Hmm? What? Yes!’  
‘You looked a bit perplexed for a moment,’ her mother smiled, holding a wine bottle over Lara’s glass. ‘Perhaps you’ve had enough to drink.’  
‘We’ll have to work on your composure,’ Marik snorted too.  
‘Stop distracting me!’ Lara hid her giggle, and finished her marvellous meal with her loved ones.


End file.
